


Boomerang

by godxspeed



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Coming Out, Drinking, Flirting, Gon being smooth, Killua being cheeky, M/M, Nostalgia, Smut, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 03:12:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 57,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5031505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godxspeed/pseuds/godxspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killua wasn't too familiar with the aspect of love. But, he did know this: Love is hard. And, it makes you agree to stupid things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**  
**

“Not quite sure I believe that one.”

“Oh, c’mon, I’m telling the truth!”

Kurapika glanced over at his friend, whose pale expression was twisted with insistence. His hazel eyes took in the facade for the briefest of moments before darting back ahead of them.

“Yeah, not sure I believe _that_ , either.”

Killua shoved his hands in the pockets of his faded, gray windbreaker, scoffing; “You act like I’m a liar, or something.”

The smug and faint smile on the blonde’s lips had Killua’s scowl worsening. “I wouldn’t say that,” he replied, tone naturally lilting, “I’d say I’m acting like I _know_ you.”

The other male rolled his eyes, “I’m telling the truth; it happened.”

Kurapika nodded, tightening the scarf around his neck after facing an uncomfortably cold gust of wind. “Alright, so, assuming you _are_ \--” he ignored the heated glare coming from his right, “--What happened to the guy, in the end?”

“The one hit by the car?”

“Mm.”

“Probably dead.”

Kurapika’s eyes widened with feigned surprise, “Ohh… _Dead?”_

“Probably…”

“Interesting. So, don’t you think that, maybe, you should be checking up on the poor man’s family, seeing as you tried your _absolute best_ to _save_ _him_ , and all?” The blonde’s tone was filled with mocking intonations, words sneaking out through subtly smirking lips.

“W-well, uh, well--” Killua finally caved, “ _Alright_! Alright. Alright, Kurapika, you win. Dammit…” He sneered at the smug laugh that followed his defeat, “I may have… tweaked the story. A bit.”

“A bit,” the other male parroted.

“Yeah, a _bit_. I didn’t dive out into the street and the guy probably isn’t dead.”

The two stopped walking, standing amongst strangers at the curb of the sidewalk. Killua sighed, watching cars begin to drive over the crosswalk. “He did get hit, though. Broke his arm.”

Kurapika gave a slight wince, imagining an arm snapping against the sheer force of a moving car. “Brutal… And, what did _you_ do, might I ask? The _truth_ , this time.”

Killua shrugged, stepping off the curb, light still glowing red in the shape of a hand. He looked left and right, “Well, what do you expect? I called the cops.”

The blonde shook his head as Killua began to jaywalk, hands still in his pockets, stride characteristically boyish and nonchalant. Honestly, weren’t they in the middle of speaking about a man who broke his arm jaywalking?

By the time Killua reached the other side of the street, the light switched to the figure of a man, glowing white. At the signal, Kurapika--like the other, normal, people around him--proceeded onto the crosswalk. He greeted Killua with a shake of his head, stepping onto the lifted curb.

"Can't you just wait for the light to change? You end up waiting, anyway."

Killua rolled his eyes, glowing a bright blue in contrast to the darkening, gray sky above, "Well, if you’d just  follow my lead, I wouldn't have to wait."

"Me? Follow _your_ lead? I'd rather gnaw off my own hand," Kurapika replied aloofly, walking past the man, who glared in response. Killua whisked around on the heel of his sneakers, following the blonde down the sidewalk.

"What’s the big deal, anyway? Living in a big city like this for so long--it’d be weird not to know when to jaywalk.”

Kurapika braced himself against another gust of wind, glancing over at the man who’d fallen in step beside him. “Mm. But, Ame City’s unpredictable. You never know who’s going to run a red light or drift around the corner. I swear, a few car racing movies hit the big screen and everyone thinks they can drift…”

“I’m surprised you even know what ‘drifting’ is,” Killua snorted, glancing over at him. “And, besides, Ame streets aren’t so bad. Unless, _you’re_ behind the wheel.” His smirk grew into a grin as he laughed, “You have worse road rage than _I_ do. When someone cuts you off, it’s like your eyes gloss over and all you see is _red_.”

“I do _not_ have road rage,” Kurapika replied haughtily. And, it had Killua mentally debating whether, or not, to get into how many times he’s actually considered barrel rolling out of Kurapika’s car. He ended up deciding that the conversation would only coerce the blonde into a shitty mood, which, wouldn’t bode well for their evening plans.

“Hey. What’re we doing, again?” Killua asked, kicking a rock.

Kurapika sighed, “We’re going to HXH. Honestly. You forget everything.”

Killua took slight offense to that; he’d always prided himself on his analytical mind and intelligence--memory-holding capabilities included. So, he grimaced; “I do not. We’ve just been walking for who-knows how long--I was beginning to think that was all we were gonna do. Jeez, why did you you even bring your car if we were just going to walk the whole way there?”

“ _Because_ ,” Kurapika started with that tone that annoyed Killua most--it was arrogant and insulting, “I’m not about to pay an ungodly amount of money to park in a garage or on the street in such a busy part of the city. Not to mention, have to abide by ridiculous time limits.”

Killua sighed heavily. Sometimes the best way to deal with the mood swings of Kurapika Kurta was to accept them and refuse to acknowledge them, all the same. He’d learned this after moving in with the young man years ago. And, quite frankly, Killua viewed it as one of his most prized discoveries. It’d saved him from a lot of arguments, along the way--oh, and, getting kicked out.

“Got it. So, who’s gonna be there? Leorio? Right, Leorio,” Killua spoke as he thought, head tipping up to gaze at the glowing windows of the towering buildings they passed. “Haven’t seen him in a while...”

He hadn’t known Leorio Paladiknight very long, didn’t even know what he looked like before moving in with Kurapika after high school. But, there was something endearing and genuine about the loudmouthed doctor-to-be that had Killua warming up to him immediately. They’d met when he was eighteen--at their apartment in Yorknew, and, the three had spent a great deal of time together, for a while, amidst busy college schedules. All before Leorio moved out of the city, a couple years back. Killua was twenty-two, now, which meant Leorio was at least twenty-nine. He wondered if the guy ever got married.

“What’s he up to, nowadays?” Killua asked curiously. “Did he ever become a surgeon or anything? Does he have gray hair?”

“Mm,” Kurapika hummed thoughtfully, “No, he doesn’t. And, he didn’t say. I haven’t spoken to him much other than when we ran into each other at the cafe. I figured we would save all the catching up for tonight.”

“Makes sense…” Killua mumbled, nodding. He soon smirked, “Well, I hope the old geezer’s as lively as he used to be.”

“He’s not even thirty,” Kurapika snorted faintly before blinking. He looked at the man beside him, “But, if he isn’t. I’m sure you’ll still be plenty entertained.”

“Why? Are you planning on giving him a lapdance, or something?” Killua choked on his laughter when Kurapika faced him with a horrified expression--jaw dropped, and all.

“As if I’d ever!” The blonde exclaimed, “And, no, I was going to say that _Gon_ is going to be there, as well.”

Killua would’ve stopped in his tracks, if it didn’t mean standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk. Instead, he took his turn gawking, jaw dropped, eyes wide and shocked. Kurapika merely chuckled, eyes turning back ahead.

“You’re kidding!?” Killua let out, “ _Gon Freecss_?”

“How many other _Gon's_ do you know?”

“Just one. And, I had absolutely no idea that he was friends with Leorio. Did you invite him, or something?” Killua didn’t know why, but, his head was beginning to spin.

“No, Leorio had texted me that he was bringing Gon, just this morning. I thought it was a splendid idea.” He quirked a thin, blonde brow, “Unless... you and Gon had a falling out?”

Killua shook his head, snorting softly, “No, you'd know about that, if we did. 'T’s just that I haven’t talked to Gon since graduation, and we, you know, drifted. ” He began to laugh, “I wonder what the little twerp’s up to, nowadays! Probably holds the world record for ‘most trees climbed and fallen out of’, by now.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Kurapika smiled warmly, thinking back to his own memories with the unique Gon Freecss.

“Weird, though, right?” Killua asked after a moment of silence and turning a corner.

“Hm?”

“That Leorio and Gon know each other? Kinda weird that we’re all strung together, in a way.”

“Oh, like fate?” Kurapika laughed at Killua’s uncomfortable guise.

“Jeez, don’t say _that_. That’s kinda dramatic.” He shook his head, “But, I guess. I mean, you and I met through Hisoka and Illumi--” he shivered at the names being on his tongue. Just remembering that he even _knew_ them sent quivers down his spine. Illumi was his adamant, and, creepy brother. And, Hisoka was Illumi’s even creepier friend. Why Hisoka and Kurapika were hanging around each other, Killua would never know. Nor, would he ever want to.

He’d have to land himself in a deathbed, diagnosed with ‘Clinical Boredom’, before striking _that_ conversation.

“And, Gon and I met in middle school--” They were essentially inseparable growing up. “--Which is why _you two_ met. Then, _you and Leorio_ met, jerking off in the library--”

“--Did not! How crude!” Kurapika blanched, causing his cheeky friend to snicker.

“I’m kidding. You guys met… uh, always studying at the same times, I guess. Completely by chance--is my point. And, now, Leorio and Gon know each other!?”

“Sounds rather funny when you lay it all out like that,” Kurapika noted. He pulled on the sleeve of Killua’s jacket, stopping him from walking further. “We’re here.”

The two men stood outside of a noisy restaurant, though, it was practically empty from a passerby point of view. The capital letters ‘HXH’ hung right over the double-doors. Black lettering with a white glow behind. The whole establishment had a theme of black and off-white, in fact, from the walls and decor to the flooring, and, what Killua assumed, the rooms within, as well.

HXH was a new form of dining-out that hit Ame City before the rest of the country. It was akin to Karaoke bars, where you could claim a room for just yourself and your party and indulge in privacy. Here, instead of being seated at tables in a sea of people, you reserve your own room (depending on party size) and dine in there.

The restaurant was statistically the busiest place in Ame--Kurapika had reserved a room over a month ago. Which was smart. HXH’s rule of thumb: if you didn’t get a reservation, you weren’t eating there. Plain and simple.

When they stepped in and gave the hostess Kurapika’s last name, they were given a rectangular card that had the same touch and feel as a credit card. It was the key to opening their room and relatively blank, aside from the two, touching X’s on its front.

“I wonder what’s inside,” Killua muttered, impatiently waiting for Kurapika to press the card against the metal pad beside the threshold.

Once the door slid open, a whistle left either man’s lips, in unison.

The room wasn’t too small--spacious enough for four people to move about, probably even dance, if they wanted to. The lighting was dim and warm, setting a perfect contrast to the dark, black walls and flooring. As soon as you step inside, you’re greeted by black, hardwood flooring, a tall square table with a fancy little candle in its center and a curved minibar in the corner.

Towards the the wall opposite the entrance hung a giant TV screen, nearly covering its entirety, with HD picture. The monitor was separated from the rest of the room by a single railing of polished, black wood.

Oh, and, that wasn’t all that greeted the two once the door closed behind them.

Without warning, the two were bombarded with excited voices and cheering. Gon and Leorio ran to them, patting their shoulders and waving their arms, grins splitting their faces in half. Add the fact that neither man knew much about ‘personal space’, and, you’ve got two ghostly pale men with their backs pressed against the door.

“Wh-when did you both get here?” Kurapika asked, slightly disoriented by what he would define as an attack.

Leorio stepped back, adjusting his blue suit, grin still splayed across his charming face. “Just around fifteen minutes ago. Knowing you, I expected you’d be here even earlier than that,” he teased.

Kurapika began pulling the scarf from his neck, eyes closed, expression nonchalant, “I wouldn’t adjust my schedule just to await your arrival like some lovesick schoolgirl, Leorio. I did have prior arrangements.”

Leorio twitched, glaring, “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

At that, Kurapika offered a gentle frown, eyeing him and peeling off his jacket, “I can see you haven’t, either.”

The two held each other’s stares for a moment, one irritated and the other aloof, before laughing quietly. It was indeed true; neither had changed since they last encountered, aside from the cafe, and, it was evident in the atmosphere between them. Warm and comfortable, like a slice of home--in a sense.

Meanwhile, Killua was having a much more, _painfully_ awkward experience in comparison--mouth hanging open, eyes wide with perplexity, hands trembling in his coat pockets. _Not talking_.

Whilst the two beside him hadn’t undergone any changes, physically or mentally, the raven in front of him certainly had! Physically--at least.

Killua stared at his childhood friend, throat drying out by how long his jaw had been dropped. He started to feel a slight strain on the underneaths of his eyes, and, it occurred to him that he was staring _upwards_. Which meant that… Gon Freecss had grown.

Grown, grown, grown.

Killua flinched when Kurapika murmured to him, just before stepping further into the room and leaving him behind. “I suggest blinking before your eyes dry out.”

The man finally closed his mouth and swallowed, forcing himself to blink. All the while, Gon was smiling, completely unaffected by his friend’s gaping.

“Killua, long time no see!” Gon finally spoke, and, Killua had to clear his throat. Gon’s voice was a lot lower and smoother than he remembered.

In fact, Gon was just a lot _more_ than he remembered, in general!

“What the hell!?” Killua finally bursted, “How did--what the--how did you get so damn tall!?”

“Growth spurt? Maybe?” Gon simpered, scratching the back of his head, hair still spiked up the way it had been his entire life. He really was only a few inches taller than the other man.

“Growth spurt, my ass!” Killua retorted, poking his chest with an index finger, only to retract it so quickly, it was as if the raven was on fire. What Killua had jabbed, were pecs. Hard, well-developed _pecs_. If his mind wasn’t in a frenzy, before… “You took enhancers, huh? Something like that, right? You popped pills, or something, didn’t you?”

Gon slumped confusedly, pouting, “Enhancers!? What’re you talking about! I just grew!”

“Yeah, and, bulked up,” Killua scoffed, folding his arms, whilst sizing up Gon’s.

Gon had most definitely ‘bulked up’, which left Killua completely disarrayed. Gon was always the short, spunky and cheerful one. Always slender, always frivolous. Even when they took up weights in high school, Gon had never built as much muscle as Killua had--which, was saying quite a bit, considering, Killua never ‘bulked up’, he was--and, still _is_ \-- the lean, muscular type. Slender and athletic.

Gon looked like he hit the gym, then, hit the gym _at_ the gym.

Which, didn't make a whole lot of sense when Killua thought about it. But, he was too delirious to hold it against himself.

And, maybe, he was over exaggerating--still trying to get over ‘that kid’ that took up most of his memories growing up. Gon wasn’t a brute. He was just a lot broader, now-- _thicker_.

“Well, yeah. I do a lot of manual labor, you know?” Gon laughed, relaxing. “It’s kinda what happens.”

“Manual labor?” Killua lifted a brow, “What, like pulling airplanes by a chain-link necklace?”

Gon laughed, again, enjoying the sarcastic and dry humor he so dearly missed all these years. “No! I do a lot of construction work, now--anyway, come into the room, some more, I don’t want to catch up by the door.”

“Body builder, construction worker, and, now, a _poet,_ ” Killua snorted, pulling away from the door, “Gon Freecss, you’re one in a million.”

To an outsider, Killua would have sounded rather rude. But, even with a rift of four years, Gon _knew_ Killua. And, that soft smirk he saw, as the shorter male strode past him, had him responding with a pearly-white grin.

When the two stepped into the more spacious portion of the room, they landed eyes on Kurapika and Leorio sitting at adjacent corners of the square table. Kurapika was proving to be very intrigued in whatever tale Leorio was telling, what with the way his brows would lift, or how the corner of his lips would twitch every now and then, eyes focused and large. He was hanging on each and every word that came from the brunette’s mouth, and, with the way Leorio was waving his hands, leaning in, pulling back and working every muscle in his face, Killua couldn’t blame the blonde. It looked like a good story.

“Probably shouldn’t disturb them, yeah?” Gon chuckled, coming to a halt.

Killua who’d stopped just a foot ahead of the raven, shrugged. Hands still in his pockets, he whisked around, gaze meeting Gon’s. “Probably not. But, I figure I should greet the old man, too.”

Gon nodded, smiling. “Yeah, but, Kurapika never looks that focused, yanno? I don’t wanna ruin it.”

“You may have a point,” Killua pondered aloud before offering a half-smirk, half-something-else, “Or, maybe, you’re just trying to get alone time with me.”

The other perked up at the accusation, nervousness evident all over his awkwardly smiling, handsome and tanned face. He laughed, waving a hand, “No, I’m just being considerate.”

Playfully skeptical, Killua lifted a single, silver brow, walking to wooden railing, away from the table. “I’m on to you, Freecss.”

Gon laughed, following him. While Killua pulled his hands out from his jacket and folded his arms, leaning forward and pressing his forearms on the rail, Gon settled on leaning back against it, gripping the railing with both hands at either sides of his hips.

Killua’s eyes glanced to his left, peering at his friend through white bangs. Gon was wearing a white button up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a black tie and black slacks. Each piece of clothing perfectly fitted. Killua rolled his eyes at the flipping in his stomach, seeing the white fabric stretch across the muscles it hid underneath.

“The Gon, I remember,” Killua started teasingly, “Always wore green. Always had grass-stained shorts and loose T-shirts. And, bandaids. Lots of bandaids.”

Catching on, Gon laughed warmly, “Hey, hey! This’s a five star restaurant. Leorio told me to dress up. He even took me out and bought this outfit for me. Honestly, my closet hasn’t changed much since high school.”

Killua gave a soft chuckle, “Well, if you’re gonna let _Leorio_ start shopping for you, you’re either gonna end up looking like a top-notch gambler, or, like you’re constantly attending weddings.”

" _Constantly!?"_ Gon let out a loud laugh, “Just always on the go, always going to weddings. Always.”

Killua nodded enthusiastically before faking a hurried look; “Always going, ‘sorry, gotta go, I got another wedding, then another after that, plus, I’m still at _this_ wedding’--”

“-- ‘Weddings, weddings, _weddings_ ’!”

The two laughed together, after that. Though, they were much older, now--grown and established, their laughter flitted into the air with a striking boyishness and youthfulness. A true sign that nothing had really ever changed between them. It wasn’t a laugh that you just give, and,  it wasn’t a laugh you just share with _anyone_ , either. It was genuine, relaxing, immature and frivolous--the kind of sound that only the two of them, together, could produce.

As it died down, Gon lifted an index finger, and, Killua waited patiently as Gon fished around in his back pocket. Eventually, he pulled out a forest-green wallet with orange trimming and opened it.

Killua’s eyes widened before relaxing, his mouth cracking into a grin. Inside the wallet was a copious amount of bandaids and bandaid wrappers.

The smile had Gon laughing, again. “See? I haven’t changed.” He slipped the wallet back into his pocket before settling his stare on his friend. It was warm and comfortable--it had Killua’s heart beating a little bit quicker. “So, what about you, Killua?”

“What about me?” the man snorted.

“How much have _you_ changed? Hm?” A childish smile formed on his lips, “I see, not much. You’re wearing a windbreaker to the nicest restaurant in Ame.”

“Hey,” Killua lifted a hand and pointed at the guy, “I wear what I like. I don’t care where I am.” He softened a bit before continuing, “And, I haven’t changed much.”

The word ‘change’ seemed rather strange to Killua. The gray area between ‘changing’ and ‘growing’ had his brows knitting together before he decided to drop it, altogether.

“I’m still the same Killua Zoldyck,” he frowned, “Hearing my full name in my own voice is kinda weird.”

Gon snorted, “Maybe, you’re just too self-conscious.”

“Am not.”

“You might be.”

“I might _not_.”

“Killua!!”

Along with their conversation coming to an abrupt end, Killua was suddenly seized by two strong arms, pulling him away from the railing in a big, giant, warm, Paladiknight-like hug.

“G-Get off of me, old man!” Killua sputtered, trying to pry himself out of Leorio’s clutches.

“No way, I missed you, you little brat,” Leorio laughed. Eventually, Killua’s struggling paid off and Leorio let go.

Adjusting his jacket, Killua looked up at the brunette with a glare that had no bite to it. In fact, he looked rather delighted. “L’orio,” he smirked, “Been a while, you old geezer.”

“I’m not a geezer,” Leorio glared, driving his knuckles into the top of Killua’s scalp, earning a disgruntled groan of protest. He put his hands on his hips, “I haven’t even hit thirty, yet. I mean, honestly, do I really look that old?”

Killua shrugged, “You’ve always looked a-hundred to _me_ , so--”

That earned him another grind of knuckles, Gon and Kurapika laughing all the while.

Kurapika lifted a hand, “So, I’ve been meaning to ask, Gon, Leorio, how did you two meet?”

Gon instantly started chuckling, slipping his hands in his pockets--something Killua had never seen him do before. And, jeez, did it look nice. Thick, sculpted forearms trailing down to strong wrists that disappeared beneath black fabric--he swallowed and directed his focus elsewhere.

“Well, it’s kinda funny,” Gon smiled.

“Yeah,” Leorio nodded, grinning just as goofily, “We met last year. I was working the ER, covering for a call-out, and Gon stumbles in limping, saying, ‘I think I broke my ankle--I’m not sure. But, it’s not working’.” The group laughed.

“How’d you go and do _that?"_  Killua glanced at the raven.

Gon simpered, shrugging, “I was playing soccer and some guy slid into me. It was really bad.”

Killua’s brows lifted, “You play soccer?”

A nod, “Yeah. I’ve got a pretty mean kick!”

Killua nodded, trying to pull his eyes off of Gon’s face to focus on Leorio as he continued on with the story _whilst_ taking in the new information. He didn’t know Gon was into sports, at all. They were more trail-takers and tree-climbers growing up.

“And, I dunno, we hit it off pretty quickly. By the end of it all, Gon invited me out to eat and we’ve been friends ever since.” Leorio nodded, folding his arms, “So strange that you both know him, too.”

“I agree,” Kurapika smiled, “But, I’d say it’s a nice coincidence.” He blinked, “But, Leorio, why don’t you tell them what you just told me?”

A faint tinge of pink appeared on the older man’s face before he turned to the other two, smiling sheepishly. “Well…”

“What is it, Leorio?” Gon asked eagerly.

“I, uh…”

“Out with it, old man. Before you start losing your memory--” Killua grinned cheekily at the glare he received.

Leorio finally gave a wide, toothy smile, pointing at himself, “Well, I’m getting married!”

Two jaws dropped.

Gon replied with cheers of glee and congrats while Killua smiled and made his usual snarky remarks, amidst congratulating him, of course. He couldn’t believe it. Ol’ L’orio was getting married. Married. It only reminded him how far ahead the guy was in comparison to himself--knowing himself so well and knowing exactly what he wanted to do with that knowledge.

Killua was envious in the best of ways. In a way that kind of motivated him.

“What’s her name? Why have you been hiding her?” Gon teased, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“I wanted to tell all of you at once!” Leorio defended with a laugh, “And, her name’s Hana. She’s a barista in this city, at the cafe Kurapika and I ran into each other at, actually. She’s really genuine and kind. I’d try to catch her attention all the time, and, for a while, I thought it was all futile, but, one day, she drew a rose on my cup and it gave me the courage to ask her out.”

“A flower?” Killua smiled, “That’s all it takes? A flower?”

“Hey, hey, it was the push he needed!” Gon came to the man’s rescue with a beaming smile.

“That’s right, and, well, the rest is history.”

Kurapika sighed happily, “Well, then, maybe we should go over those details over dinner?” It, then, occurred to the group that they hadn’t even touched the menus sitting on the bar.

“No way,” Gon shook his head, “Leorio’s getting married--we have to drink to that!”

Killua nodded, pointing at the raven, “Yeah, I agree. Alcohol.”

Kurapika frowned, though, the idea did sound more appealing than sifting through laminated pages of overpriced food. “But, how will Gon and Leorio get home?”

“Oh,” Leorio raised a hand, “We walked. My place's about fifteen minutes away, by foot. We’ll be fine.”

The blonde rolled his eyes, “Yeah, just what we need: two misdemeanours for public intoxication.” He shook his head, “I’ll just drive you both home.”

Gon pouted, “You don’t wanna drink?”

“Ah, no. I have work tomorrow morning.”

“Then, that’s it,” Killua grinned, “Let’s get started."

 

\---

 

It was almost embarrassing how quickly the three men attacked the minibar.

But, what was most definitely embarrassing was the strange cheer they let out at seeing the rich assortment of drinks available to them. There were various types and flavors of alcohol in bottles smaller than what you would pick up at the store. Kurapika wondered if they were aware that they would have to pay everything they put their lips to.

While Kurapika poured himself some white wine, he watched, with bright eyes and a warm smile, as the three took their rounds of shots. He wasn’t sure if he was smiling because the enthusiasm before him was rather endearing--or, if because he knew that the three would be howling tomorrow, as well.

Hoarsely… into the bowl of a toilet.

After the unnecessary amounts of shots, the party had split back into two; Kurapika and Leorio at the table eating finger foods (that Kurapika finally gave in and ordered), and, Killua and Gon back at the railing, talking and gazing at a giant, busy screen full of football players.

“Lame,” Killua dismissed the broadcast with a frown, “Is there a remote around here?”

Gon nodded and took it upon himself to find out. He pushed away from the railing only to stumble, world tipping to the right slowly. He’d only been away from the rail for a few seconds before he was clutching it, again.

“What was _that?”_ Killua laughed.

“Don’t think I should be moving around right now,” Gon replied sheepishly, face pink from the warm alcohol in his system.

“Yeah, might fall and crack your head on the table,” Killua agreed, and, returned his eyes to the screen. He frowned, again.

“You don’t like football?”

A shake of the head.

“Well, we don’t have to watch it,” Gon reminded cheerfully, words slightly slurred. Killua eyed him for a moment. “It can just be background noise.”

“Right.”

“I like football,” Gon smiled, “Playing it, anyway. Watching it’s not too fun, ‘less it’s in person.”

“Wouldn’t know what that’s like,” Killua sighed, trying to urge his mind to stop spinning. “I didn’t know you were so into sports.”

“I didn’t know you were so _not_ into sports,” Gon shot back.

Killua shrugged, “It’s not that… I just… I just don’t keep up with it. I don’t keep up with anything, really,” he admitted a little coyly, “‘Kinda fickle that way…”

“...Well, I wish I kept up with _you_.”

Killua’s heart did a leap-type thing and he turned his head to gawk at the guy next to him, eyes wide, face tinting. He swallowed, “Wh-what?”

Gon’s expression was as unregretful and genuine as one could get. He meant what he said, completely. But, in which _manner_ , Killua wasn’t sure. His stomach flipped when he considered the possibility that, maybe, Gon had been pining after him all this time. Kind of like how _he_ had been…

Of course, Gon cleared up the confusion promptly--noting the man’s blushing and bewildered demeanour. He laughed softly, “N-Not like--not like _that_. I mean… it’s kind of stupid how we stopped talking for, I don’t know, _four years.”_

Killua nodded slowly, feeling a little-- _just a little_ \-- disappointed. It was his own fault for jumping to fairytale-esque conclusions. “Mm. I agree. Stupid. ‘T’s your fault for wanting to explore the world with your dad.”

Gon nodded sadly, “I know…”

“Huh? Hey,” Killua twitched at the tone of pure regret. “I’m just kidding. It’s natural, you know? People drift, people grow apart. All the time. Don’t sound so guilty, Gon.”

“Yeah, but, I could’ve texted you or called you--” he sighed, “But, I guess I couldn’t have. I had to get a new phone and everything was wiped. I’m so stupid.”

“Hm. What happened to your old phone?”

“I lost it exploring a pyramid with Ging.”

Killua slumped at the response. It was spoken so bluntly and regretfully that it seemed like Gon was missing out on his own details--he was exploring a pyramid. Damn it. Killua had lost his phone once, too--in a _porta potty_. Slipped right out of his jeans and into the hole.

“Gon.” He decided not to get into it. The bigger ordeal was the fact that the guy was beating himself up about it. “It’s not your fault. In fact, it’s more _my_ fault. I had your number, and, I didn’t have the sense to do anything about it.”

Gon’s look became adamant, and, Killua knew that he’d be forgiven for his lack of effort way before Gon ever forgave himself for a simple mishap he didn’t even plan on happening. “But, if I was more careful, you know--”

“--No.” Though feeling the warm buzz of tipsiness begin to give way to something much more disorienting, Killua managed to maintain a stern tone--as he always had to, back then. Sometimes, Gon needed it. “No. No. It’s not your fault. Stop. No--stop.” He relaxed as the raven let a chuckle slip out. “It wouldn’t have done anything, anyway. I changed my number when I turned eighteen and didn’t tell anybody. So, it’s one-hundred-percent my fault. And, I’m sorry.”

Killua tensed when something hot slid over his left hand--Gon’s right. The touch stalled him, startled him, made his skin tingle and bite. He glanced from their hands to the man’s rosy face.

“Don’t feel sorry, Killua. I know you were probably busy.”

“Alright, we’ll be talking about this in our graves if we don’t end the conversation right here and now,” he sighed.

“You’re probably right,” Gon chuckled, voice light with a hint of added charm. Charm that didn’t need to be there. Charm that proved successful in doing just that-- _charming_.

Killua forced down the awkward laugh that wanted to follow after.

“So--so, why did you change your number?”

“Ermm.. To keep my distance from Illumi. He kept doing that whole ‘find your phone’ thing and would show up wherever I was and hide in the background--as if I wouldn’t notice.”

Killua’s family always kept tabs on him if and when they could. They were more protective than Killua could handle--controlling, even. Gon knew this, so he didn’t have to supply a background story.

“So, I changed my number, got a new phone and had Kurapika add me to his plan when I moved in with him. Been a free man ever since.” The last part came out painfully dry, but, it had the raven beside him giggling.

“I take it you’re not a cop, then.”

His entire family was involved with the police force and they’d always pressured him to keep a clean record and follow their footsteps--to only make decisions that would better ensure his future on the force. But, punishing people and enforcing laws, that he, himself, liked to break, didn’t appeal to him, whatsoever. The elders in his family even predicted he’d become a greater officer than his own father--which, did little to nothing in motivating him. Well, actually, it did. It motivated him to ‘get the hell out of there’.

“Yeah. No. Fickle. Remember?” Killua gave a slight smile.

Gon smiled back, though, he was peering at the TV, now. “I don’t remember you being fickle around _me_ …”

The statement came out warm, slightly teasing, and it had Killua nervously clutching onto the railing. The act made him realize Gon’s hand was no longer atop his own.

“Y-Yeah, well, you’re not monotonous… Yanno? You never followed a routine.” He snorted, glancing at the larger man who used to be smaller than him. “You’re pretty fickle, too, I think.”

He watched Gon’s lips part to form a small grin.

 

\---

 

“W-wa--wait, Gon. That’s. That’s not right. Hey. It doesn’t look. Right.”

“What doesn’t--look right? What?”

“That--that’s not a… a number. It’s a ‘Y’.”

As the night carried on, Killua and Gon found themselves a lot more incoherent and a lot closer. Leaning against the railing, elbows pressed against the polished wood, their arms were pressed together, side by side. Giggles and stammering left their lips while drunken blushes stained their cheeks.

“Oh. Pfff. Right.” Gon deleted the letter and turned his keyboard back to a dialpad. “What was it?”

“I told you,” Killua snorted, “Like, three times. I’m not saying again.”

“But, Killua~” Gon whined, frowning at him, “I really want it.”

Killua pushed his arm further into Gon’s, “Then. Then, you should’ve memorized it the first time.”

“Not fair!”

“Welp.”

Gon bowed his head, closing his eyes and trying to piece together the numbers floating around in his mind from when Killua uttered them last. As he did this, Killua observed through lidded eyes, watching tan lips mutter and dark brows furrow. His eyes traveled downward to his blunt chin, then trailed along the shadow of a sharp, defined jaw.

Gon wasn’t at all like he remembered, Killua thought dazedly. But, he wasn’t complaining. It didn’t seem like his personality had altered--maybe, he was a little quieter and a lot more mature. But, he still seemed the same. Still considerate and enthusiastic. Still humble, even with his rippling biceps, hard chest and toned legs hiding underneath (and stretching) finely stitched slacks. Killua let out a shaking sigh, trying not to let his drunkenness delve too deeply into the subject of ‘Gon’s appearance’.

Annoyingly attractive attributes aside, Gon had simply grown into the man that Killua always envisioned him as, even at twelve, when they met. No matter how late of a bloomer Gon was, Killua always pictured him as a large, heroic man that could take charge and protect everyone.

He felt undeserving of the gift--seeing his vision become reality.

Gon pushed his arm into Killua’s, stealing his attention.

“Mm, what?”

“Is that it?”

Killua glanced down at Gon’s phone, screen glowing too brightly for his taste. After scanning over the sequence of numbers, he nodded. “That’s it. That’s me. Wow, you must have--some kind of power, or something. How’d you remember that?”

Gon saved the phone number before slipping his phone in his back pocket. “I just kept, well, kept replaying your voice in my head until it worked.”

Killua let out a single chuckle, leaning closer to the raven until their faces were several inches apart. “Creepy.”

Gon mimicked the action, ridding their distance of a couple inches. He simpered, “Not creepy.”

“It is. I think it is. Creepy. You’re creepy, Gon Freecss.”

Gon laughed, “Am not. Hey. Hey.”

“Uhm, what?”

“Remember when. In high school.”

Killua bent his right leg, balancing his foot on the tip of his shoe. As he wagged his ankle, he murmured; “Yeah?”

Gon paused, eyes focused and mouth slightly ajar. His tongue darted out, absentmindedly, to lick his bottom lip, gaze fixed on Killua’s windbreaker. The windbreaker that’d been unzipped during shots, and, was now slipping over his shoulder, baring the thick strap of a black tank hugging tight, pale skin.

“I… forgot…”

Killua, oblivious to the raven’s lingering stare, laughed. “Oh, c’mon. No, you didn’t.”

Gon blinked and swallowed, directing his eyes back to Killua’s, that used to be this deep blue, but were now this hazy gray. He hesitated, again, before the thought returned. “Oh! Oh. Right. Remember when we would take each other--to the school dances?”

Killua burst out laughing. “Oh, God. Yes. I do.”

Gon followed suit, “We’d always make a huge deal of asking each other, too! Like getting everyone to wear shirts with letters on them--”

“--Or, or making huge ass banners!”

“Yeah, yeah! Or, making the whole cafeteria quiet down before getting down on one knee!”

The two laughed, sinking into each other. And, for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room had slipped away, only to be replaced with the warm nostalgia of their stories. Their laughter wrapped around them like a cotton blanket, cocooning them in a strange, buzzing heat. Blocking out the remnants of reality. It was as bizarre as it was welcoming, and, it had Killua resting his forehead on Gon’s firm shoulder, cheekbone pressing into thin fabric.

"Mmmm, drunk..." Killua murmured.

Gon had tensed at the level of closeness before relaxing. He lowered his head and replied, "Too bad we didn't go to prom together."

Killua felt his eyes close and he snorted, "Yeah. Kinda screwed up the streak we had going."

"Right..." Gon fell silent before thinking aloud, "I brought Alluka and you brought Bisky."

"Oh, god~" Killua groaned playfully, "Bisky was the worst. She kept smacking me when I stepped on. On her shoes. And, scolding me. I swear, she's like a fifty year old trapped in a girl's body!"

Gon giggled, "That was always fun to--"

Leorio's laugh, in the background, cut him off and had Killua lifting from his shoulder.

"Oh." Killua glanced over his shoulder, "Forgot they were here. Maybe. Maybe I should spend time with Ol' L'orio."

Gon frowned instantly, watching Killua begin to lift from the railing. He reached over his right arm with his left hand, pulling on Killua's already falling windbreaker, exposing the light skin of his bicep.

"Huh, what?"

"No. It's... it's fine. He won't mind."

Killua cocked a brow, "Huh? But, we're all supposed to be... like... catching up."

"Yeah, I know..." Gon admitted, "But, I'm selfish. And, I've gone longer without seeing you than Leorio has. So... so it's fair."

"...He's gonna be mad... I think."

"'T's fine. I'll deal with it."

Killua stayed put, eyeing the man with an unreadable glint in his eyes. There was a brief moment of unfamiliar eye contact, before he, eventually, succumbed to a sigh and returned to his previous position--against Gon.

"You're really selfish. You're right. Fine. I'll stay."

Gon replied with a silent lift of the corner of his lips, eyes pointed at his folded arms. They stayed like that for a while and Killua's temple had found Gon's shoulder somewhere within the silence.

"Hey, don't you wish that... that we went to prom together, instead?"

Killua offered something that wasn’t quite a smile, nor, a frown. "What. And, treated it like a joke--like the rest of the dances?"

Gon bit the fat of his lip before responding. "No, no. Prom's, like... like, special. Right? We would've taken it seriously."

"You think so?"

"Mm. I would've."

Killua felt his stomach flip, pondering all the types of 'serious' things they would've done at the time. The imagery of Gon taking him out to dinner or linking their arms together as they walked through the hall or slow dancing-- _actually_ slow dancing and _meaning_ it, made his heart skip.

So, of course, he scoffed to cover it up.

"Yeah, right..."

"No, I would've, I know I would've," Gon insisted.

“I dunno, Gon. Best guy friends going to _Prom_ and _taking it seriously…”_ Killua tried to hide the longing flicker in his voice, “Kinda sounds like we’d just… just feed into all the rumors ‘bout us…”

Growing up, rumors always seemed to swarm around the names ‘Gon Freecss’ and ‘Killua Zoldyck’, especially with the three letter conjunction slipped in between. The false tales and assumptions never hindered their high school experience, but, they still hung in the air of the hallways as prominently as the fluorescent lighting clung to the lockers.

Their class was divided in regards to the two. A portion of the students defended the innocent connection that could only manifest between two young boys, while others were convinced something _less-than-innocent_ was going on behind the scenes. And, then, there were the few that just wanted an answer--confirmation, clarification. Something. _Anything_.

Gon and Killua had never taken part in anything intimate or sensual, during school. So, the majority of their graduating class was wrong. Which left those rooting for the innocent bonds of friendship and those who didn’t care what was going on, but were just as unnerved by the lack of affirmation as everyone else.

Killua should have been the former.

He wasn’t.

“That would’ve been fun, though, right?” Gon asked, “Messing with everyone’s heads one last time…”

“...And, mine…” Killua muttered so quietly Gon hadn’t heard him. “Yeah, that would’ve been--would’ve been the icing on the cake, right? Too bad, too bad.” He sighed, using a smile to mask his slight discomfort, “‘T’s too late, now.”

Gon perked up, turning his head to face a mop of silky, white hair. “No, it isn’t.”

“Mm, yeah, it is.”

“No, it’s not…” Gon murmured distractedly as he shifted, trying to slip his phone back out of his pocket without disturbing the man on his shoulder. “I still keep in touch with everyone from school--online.”

Killua let out a slurred scoff, hints of a smirk dancing on his lips, “You’re into social media, _too?_ Good grief…”

Gon laughed, opening up his mobile app. “Sorry--not all of us avoid trends like the plague. Hey. Here.”

With a tiny grumble, Killua lifted his head from Gon’s unnecessarily comfortable shoulder and set his gray eyes on the glowing screen. He was surprised to see himself. Front-facing camera.

“A picture?” he lifted a brow.

Gon nodded, a hopeful curve stretching his lips, “Yeah, it’ll do the trick. Yeah. I don’t have any pictures of us on here. Everyone knows we stopped talking, so. It’ll stir up some gossip.”

Killua’s head fell back with a laugh before he was grinning cheekily at the camera. “You’re absolutely right, Freecss. Angle it down at us. Let’s do it.”

Gon complied with the order, lifting his hand and aiming the camera down to capture both of them entirely. Two pairs of eyes stared up at the screen eagerly. Gon’s were wide with life, shimmering and open, lips closed to form a serene smile. As he shifted his thumb to take the picture, those eyes closed and those lips parted to give way to a natural, charming grin.

He’d merely reacted to Killua.

And, when they lowered the phone to view the picture, Gon chuckled. Killua had leaned in, eyes closed gently, and had given Gon’s cheek a kiss. The background of the picture was mostly dark with hints of dim lighting. The flash had gone off, illuminating them--immediately pulling all attention to the kiss.

“Perfect,” Gon nodded, eyes drifting all over the screen.

“One sec’.” Killua plucked the phone from Gon’s hand and began typing. His thumbs moved slowly, as he tried to remember how to spell. But, eventually, the phone was back in tan hands, picture posted to the profile with a caption beneath it. "That'll do the trick. It'll get 'em  _real good."_

 _‘At long last--together again!_ **With - Killua Zoldyck’.**

A breathless chuckle slipped past Gon’s dry lips, the subtlety of a smile forming on them thereafter. “People are already commenting on it.”

“Let’s read them later,” Killua snorted, nudging Gon’s arm with his.

Gon nodded, turning off the phone and putting it away. His head bowed and he sighed. “Jeez, Killua, we shouldn’t. Should’ve have spent so long apart.”

A hum and a quirk of the lips. “You trynna tell me you missed me, Freecss?”

Never being one to hide his feelings, Gon gave a small nod. “Mm. Yeah… You’re. You’re not easily replaced, you know.”

“Good to know…” Now, their heads were turned, noses pointed at each other. “You aren’t, either,” Killua admitted as an afterthought.

“Well, let’s not--let’s not do that again.”

“Okay.” Killua swallowed. “We won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah--promise.”

Gon inched closer, the corner of his lips pushing into the slight fat of his right cheek. “If you go back on. On that. I’ll use the ‘find your phone’ thing. And, find you.”

“Oh, _find me?”_ Killua bit his lip, stifling the sultry chuckle crawling up his throat. He lowered his gaze to gloss over Gon’s mouth. His lips were dry. They shouldn’t be. They should be moist. And, gleaming. They should be covered in saliva, he noted, covered in _his_ saliva.

“Mhm,” Gon’s voice had dropped to a dazed murmur and it seized Killua by the heart. “I’ll find you.”

“Kinda makes me wanna hide.”

“Wouldn’t do anything.”

“I’ll turn my phone off,” Killua challenged, absentmindedly whispering.

“‘Still find you.”

Killua found his breath hitching when he saw it. When he caught a glimpse. A glimpse of something dark swimming in those orbs of melted honey fixated on him. There was more than the haze of alcohol slicking over Gon’s eyes, but, Killua couldn’t pair it with a name. He only knew that it threw his senses off-kilter.

And, where rational thought once dwelled, where the respect for a friendship lingered, the need to reach out and bury hands in dark hair manifested and took over. He found the inner-him stumbling through a mind encompassed by rolling fogs of desire and _Gon_.

Fogs that only washed over his body late at night, in secret--in the privacy of his room. Fogs birthed from nothing but pure want and selfishness and curiosity and intrigue. All the things Gon never failed to drag, from Killua’s depths, to the surface.

“Maybe, I don’t want you to find me,” Killua mustered. “Maybe. Maybe, _I’m_ selfish, too. Maybe, I-- want you to keep missing me.” He blushed at the words leaving his mouth. Damn alcohol. He’d never say that sober.

“Well,” Gon smirked lopsidedly, “Since, I _am_ selfish, I don’t care what you want. I don’t want to miss you, anymore.”

Killua knew he’d lose this battle--if it even was a battle. Gon always had a competitive, stubborn disposition, one that always won out against Killua’s. But, the thought of losing didn’t taste too bad. In fact, it was savory.

“Fine, don’t miss me. But, you better put my number to good use.”

“Oh, I will,” Gon laughed, “I’ll bombard you with--with texts and videos and pictures. All sorts of pictures.”

“None of your junk, Gon.”

“You’re a pervert,” the raven stuck his tongue out, “Not those kinds of pictures.”

“Then, what kind? Hm?” Killua smirked, pushing into him, “The kind that’ll make me _wish_ they _were_ those kind?”

Gon was taken aback, just slightly, before returning the smirk, “Are you that type, Killua?”

Killua tensed, “Wh-what type?”

What was Gon going to say, Killua wondered nervously. Was he going to inquire about his sexuality--maybe, even, his sexual orientation? Put him on the spot and make him confess that he wasn’t as straight as he thought he was? Because, Killua would do it. He knew he would. He was too intoxicated to come up with excuses or lies. Too intoxicated to deny any of Gon’s interests or anything Gon wanted, for that matter.

Gon paused. Eyes catching sight of Killua’s shoulder, again, much smaller in comparison to his own. “The… the type that’s into--” he stopped himself before scrunching his nose up, playfully, “The type that begs girls  for naughty pictures. You are, aren’t you, Killua!”

Killua scoffed, trying to hide the evident relief washing over him. “Yeah, right! Me? _Beg?_ Girls beg for _me_ to _want_ them!” What a lie. What a lie. What a huge, fat, embarrassingly giant lie.

Gon nodded, faking belief. “Oh, is that right? Girls beg _you_. And, and, not to give them pictures--but, to, to _beg them_ for pictures.”

“That’s what I said,” Killua pointed his nose in the air, eyes shutting aloofly. “Got a problem?”

“Hey, no,” the man chuckled, “If that’s your--your lifestyle, then…” His voice lowered, "Then, it can't be helped."

"Nope, it can't." Killua opened his right eye, peeking at the raven. "Bet you'd beg, too."

Gon tilted his head, "For pictures or for you to want _my_ pictures?"

“Both. Probably.”

“Riiiiight,” Gon drawled skeptically, “Doubt that.”

“Yeah, probably couldn’t handle it.”

He snorted, “Handle what?”

Killua flipped his hair as a joke, eyes closed and expression haughty, “All of _this_ \--all this lean muscle _trapped_ under _taut_ skin.”

Laughter sputtered from Gon’s mouth, shoulders hunching, “Do not! Do _not_ call your skin _taut_.”

Killua laughed, as well, “Why not? Huh? What if it is! What if it _is_ taut!”

“I feel like--I feel like someone _else_ should be saying that about you. Like. Like you shouldn’t describe yourself that way!”

Killua couldn’t fight the giggles escaping him, “Yeah, ‘cause _that’s_ normal.” He lowered his voice and joked; “ _‘Oh, yeah, baby, look at that_ taut _skin. Oh, it’s so_ taut.’”

“Jeez, stop!” Gon cringed, eyes tearing up from laughing so hard. “You’re so gross.”

Killua snorted, “Whatever. I’m gonna try it out on the next girl. I bet she’ll like it.”

Gon’s laughter died out a little sooner than expected. He cleared his throat, still smiling, though, it’d lessened in size. “Yeah. Let me. Let me know how that goes.”

“Oh, I will. Prepare yourself for a-- a lengthy report.”

“Consider me prepared.”

Killua let out a small sigh, posture slumping. He put a hand to the side of his head as silence settled upon them. Eventually, he broke it, grumbling; “Jeez, I’m done being. Drunk. I thought it was supposed to. Wear off. Not get stronger.”

Gon chuckled. “Hey.”

“Mnnh?”

“Do you… Do you think we’ll hang out, again?”

Killua nodded, “Yeah.”

“Soon?” Gon pressed tentatively, which was uncharacteristic of him, to Killua.

“Mmmm… Well,” he shrugged, “I’m busy for the next few weeks…” He couldn’t say no to work, but, he could (and _would_ ) clear his plans for Gon. If he didn’t mind coming off desperate, that is…

“Oh,” the raven frowned, glancing down.

“Yeah,” Killua sighed, “But, I promise, we’ll--”

“--What if!” Gon suddenly raised his head, peering at Killua directly, “Uh--what if it was an _emergency_?”

A snort of laughter, “Emergency? What kind of emergency would entail us _hanging out?”_

“W-Well,” Gon paused, clearing his throat, eyes darting to the left before darting back, “The kind that, that requires me needing your…uh, help.”

Killua titled his head, absolutely lost. He heaved another sigh; “What’re you saying, Gon?”

“I need. I need your help with something. And, it can’t wait a few weeks. Can we hang out next weekend? Saturday?”

“That would mean cancelling on Ikalgo…” Killua mused, though, he was mildly considering it.

“Would he be mad?” Gon asked a little eagerly, striking Killua’s confusion, once more. He glanced at him suspiciously.

“Probably. Probably, not.”

“Well, if he gets mad, I can talk to him.”

“You don’t even know him,” Killua replied amusedly.

“So. I’ll still do it. He can be mad at me. So, so, can you? You think?”

A moment of silence.

“You really _are_ selfish, Gon.”

“I know.”

“You are. You should work on that. ‘T’s like a… a character flaw.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t look sorry,” Killua smirked faintly, eyeing that unrelenting smile on the man’s face, along with those brown eyes, alit with golden hope. It didn’t take long before the combination of the two feats wore him down. It was annoying--how Gon could _still_ get him to agree to anything, even without proper explanations--without much persuasion. He exhaled through his nose. “Fine. I’ll just… I’ll just hang out with him beforehand, then… then head to…”

“My place!” Gon chirped.

“Yeah. Your place.” He cocked a brow, “So, _what_ am I agreeing to help you with?”

“Uhm, well, I--”

“--Hey, drunkards.”

The two glanced over their shoulders to see Kurapika striding up to them. He had his jacket and scarf on, keys dangling in his right hand. “The restaurant’s closing. Time to go.”

Killua shifted to lean back against the railing. While pulling his windbreaker back on he tilted his head, “Don’t you have to get the car?”

The blonde shook his head, “It’s parked out front.”

Gon whisked around, stumbling, “What? You already _left?”_

Kurapika nodded, “Yes. _And, came back._ You both were too engrossed in your conversation to notice.” He smirked teasingly, “Did you even notice the TV had been turned off?”

The two looked back over their shoulders, in unison, to see the wall that was once glowing was now black. They really were in their own world.

Gon scratched the back of his head sheepishly, simpering, “Gee, sorry, Kurapika. I didn’t even talk to you, tonight.”

Killua fought the urge to roll his eyes. Hadn’t _he_ been the one who'd practically said, ‘screw them, talk to me’?

Kurapika lifted a hand and smiled with warm reassurance, “It’s completely fine, Gon. I understand seeing Killua might’ve shifted your priorities. You two _did_ grow up together, after all.” He closed his hand and stretched his index finger, pointing it at the raven, “However, next time, I won’t let it slide.”

Gon’s arm fell to his side and he laughed, “Got it. Got it.”

“Alright, then,” Kurapika turned and pointed at Leorio, passed out and drooling on the table. “I know you’re drunk. But, at least you can stand. Think you can help drag him to the car?"

 

\---

 

“Drink.”

“Ugh, don’t--don’t say. Don’t say _drink_.” Killua waved a weak hand, swatting at nothing, eyes clenched shut, “Ever. Don’t ever--don’t you ever…”

Kurapika sighed, sitting on the armrest beside his roommate’s head.

Killua had crashed on the couch last night. The fact that he still had his full attire from dinner on, including his sneakers, spoke volumes. And, right now, the splitting headache he suffered from was speaking even louder.

Slowly, slowly, Killua peeled himself from the cushions. He gripped the back of the couch to help bring him up to a sitting position. The heels of his palms came to his tired eyes and he grumbled; “...Fuck… This is… awful. I feel like I’m ‘bout to give birth to _Athena,_  or something…”

Kurapika snorted, handing Killua a mug of black coffee, “Let me know if you need me to grab my ax.”

Killua took a sip from the coffee, swallowing down the comfortingly bitter taste, before finally opening his eyes. He closed them instantly, the beaming sunlight flooding the room causing the thumping in his head to worsen. “Gaah! Dammit. Yes. Get the ax. Kill me. Kill me, now.”

Hazel eyes rolled. “How dramatic. You act like you’ve never had a hangover before.”

“This isn’t a hangover,” Killua grimaced, “This is me dying.”

“Just dr--I mean, just chug your coffee.” Kurapika watched his friend do just that, sitting in silence. After watching Killua swish the liquid from cheek to cheek several times over (which he never understood why he did this), he asked, “So, when will you be seeing Gon, again?”

The name had Killua’s eyes flying open, this time without him wanting to double over in pain. He set the cup down against his thigh and cleared his throat. “Uhm. Next weekend.”

“That’s soon.”

“Well, he--he lives across town. ‘S’really no reason to not see each other. He was really weird about it, though. Like, weirdly stubborn about it.”

Kurapika chuckled, “Maybe, he realized he’s in love with you.”

Killua’s shoulders raised much like a threatened cat. He hissed down at his mug, “D-Don’t say that. Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m guessing you’re blushing.”

“I’m guessing you should shut up, Kurapika.”

The blonde didn’t listen, “Why so uptight? Wouldn’t that be everything you’ve ever wanted?”

Killua felt his stomach flip at the mere thought of Gon being in love with him. Of something that ridiculous actually happening. Kurapika understood, long before he did, that his feelings for Gon had morphed into something much more consuming than the simple addiction to a best friend’s presence. But, _Killua_ knew that it was futile.

“Doesn’t matter,” Killua sighed before taking a swig of coffee. “Gon’s as straight as an arrow.”

“You think so?” Kurapika inquired gently.

Killua nodded, “Mm. Yup.” He sighed even more heavily, “And, I’m just a stupid, stupid… crooked, bent, thing. He’s an arrow and I’m a… a boomerang...”

The blonde cocked a brow at the strange, strange analogy. “Uhm… If _Gon’s_ throwing it, maybe.”

Another blush. Killua glared at his lap, “Shut up.” He finished off the remaining blackness in his mug before glancing over his shoulder, “Time?” He asked, mouth full.

Kurapika scrunched his nose at the dark liquid slipping down the man’s chin. “Can you not speak with a mouth full of coffee? And, I’m not sure. My phone’s on the counter. Which, reminds me,” he lifted his head to look around their spacious living room, eyes glancing over warm tones of brown and cream, “We need to buy a clock."

“I’ll sign that task off to you,” Killua grunted, lifting his rear to pull his phone from his back pocket. “There we go,” he muttered, holding out. Clicking the ‘home’ button on its front, he nodded, “Nine-thirty. Wait. Gon texted me.”

Killua swiped the screen before entering his inbox.

“What’s it say?” Kurapika asked from behind.

“Uhh… He said, ‘The date’s on Monday, so thanks for coming to my rescue’.”

“Date?”

Killua tilted his head confusedly, brows knitting together, “What? Rescue? The hell… what’s he talking about? He’s so weird…”

“Ask him.”

“Alright…” Killua didn’t bother telling Kurapika to ‘mind his’, for, he knew he’d end up telling him, anyway. He typed his message with eager thumbs before setting the phone down. “‘Kay. It’s sent.”

Killua was in the middle of turning around when his phone vibrated.

“That was fast,” Kurapika blinked.

“Tell me about it,” Killua replied distractedly, opening up the text. There were five seconds in between his last word and the screech that left his throat. Kurapika flinched as the man jumped off of the couch, cup falling to the carpeted ground. “Shit! What the! What!?!”

“What? What’d he say!?” The phone was promptly shoved in his face, as Killua was far too disgruntled to read it aloud. Kurapika grabbed it from a trembling, pale grasp and began reading the message, himself. “‘My date with Lani. Remember…’ Uhm… ‘I need your help and expertise so I’m prepared for it. Don’t wanna blow it’.”

He set it down slowly. “Oh. Well. That’s mildly awkward.”

 _“Mildly!?”_ Killua nearly screamed, holding his arms out, looking absolutely deranged and helpless. “Mild!? No, try--try _immensely awkward_. Maybe, _excruciatingly awkward!”_

“Okay. You’re right. This is bad.”

Killua groaned, hands coming to tug on his bangs. “Oh my God. Gon! That--that--” he threw his hands down, “I’d practically, like, throw myself down on a puddle for him so his stupid, fucking shoes wouldn’t get wet. And, and, he’s--he’s going on a date with some _girl_ and asking for _my help!”_

“And, you agreed to help him.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. And, it was all rushing back to the distraught man wailing in the middle of his own living room.

“Shit--I did. Dammit, I remember, now. I did. In the car--on the way to Leorio's. He asked me. And, I agreed. Dammit.”

“And, _why_ was that?”

Killua trudged to the couch and plopped down on it, hands cupping the sides of his face. He huffed and huffed, face growing redder with each passing second. “I dunno--I… I… I think I… I think I just wanted. God, this is so stupid. I remember exactly why.”

“...Okay… And… Why?”

“This is so lame--I… I agreed ‘cause I wanted to spend more time with him.”

“Good grief,” Kurapika sighed, eyeing the way his friend’s knees bounced up and down. “And, you couldn’t have come up with a better way to do that?”

“Hey, I was drunk! And--you know. When I’m drunk, everything seems like it’s life or death.”

Kurapika nodded, accepting that. There were many times where ‘Drunk Killua’ had thrown dramatic fits over ordering the right types of food because he was worried that if he made the wrong decision, he’d die. He’d truly used that as an explanation, once--that he’d _die_.

“So, I figured--dammit, I figured that since he basically clarified that he was into girls that--I’d _have_ to settle for spending time with him by helping him. That that was my _only_ choice. And, I’m booked for the next few weeks, so, I freaked and took advantage of seeing him sooner rather than later--or, in my drunken mind--never.” He shook his head pitifully, “God, I’m so stupid.”

“I agree. You are.”

“You’re not helping!”

“Sorry.” Kurapika shifted to face his friend, resting his feet atop the cushion beside him. “Look. Don’t be hard on yourself… You were drunk and your emotions were speaking for you. I mean, it does make sense why you agreed to do it. But, now, you finally have an answer to the question that’s been driving you crazy for years, now; Gon’s straight. And, while it does seem unfair, it also presents you with an opportunity to get over him and focus your attention elsewhere.”

Killua let out a sigh, falling back against the couch. As much as he didn’t want to hear it, Kurapika was right. He’d been longing for Gon for years, without even knowing if he was into guys, let alone, whether, or not, he was even alive. It was as emotionally draining as it was revitalizing.

And, now, he was being presented with an out of it all. He couldn’t take back all of his wasted mental devotion, but, he could start anew. It was just a matter of whether he wanted to, or not. The thought of _not_ thinking about Gon seemed foreign and strange, though. And, in all honesty, it filled him with a slight case of anxiety.

As he thought about it, he realized that, maybe, along the way, he’d found some kind of comfort in his love for Gon--some form of security. Never wanting to venture out and date around--avoiding any risks of being heartbroken by some random guy he’d meet at a bar, or a grocery store. Always holding out and remaining in his bubble of simplicity, waiting for ‘someday’ to arrive.

He was in a one-sided relationship. And, it kept him safe.

“So, the question, now, is whether you go through with helping him, or not.”

“I promised him I would. He’s counting on me,” Killua murmured softly.

“But, if it’s not healthy for you--”

“--No, it won’t be. But, it’ll be good for me.” Killua’s voice had switched tones to one of more rigidity. He was thinking while speaking, again, and his thoughts were surprising him.  “Helping him will cement it in my head that I can’t have him. It’ll hurt, probably, but, it’ll help get me over him.” He nodded. “I have to do it.”

Kurapika fell silent, knowing he couldn’t deter the Zoldyck when his voice lowered in such a way. He was surprised, though, to see the man smirk at him.

“‘Sides. Sexual orientation’s never set in stone. Right?”

The blonde blinked. “ _No..._ No, I think it _can_ be. For most people.”

A pale index finger lifted into the air, “For most people. We’re talking about Gon, here. And, if he’s as fickle as I am, he might not be straight for long.”

“Killua, can you _please_ refrain from trying to turn him?” Kurapika drawled, immediately understanding where this was headed. “Honestly. If you go there to help him, help him. Don’t go with secret intentions. He’s your _friend,_  remember? Have his best interests in mind.”

The smirk disappeared and a groan filled the room. “Augh! Fine. Jeez. You’re such a goody-good, Kurapika. I hate it.”

“Whatever,” the blonde sighed, lifting from the couch. “I’m going to get ready for work.”

Killua crossed his arms, huffing as his friend walked away.

“But,” he heard from behind, “If he really _is_ as fickle as you say… I’m sure he’ll let you know--on _his own_ terms. Think you can handle _that_ , at least?”

“Mnnh, yeah, yeah."

He knew that Kurapika was right. He shouldn't try to turn someone who already had 'all that' figured out. It was selfish and cruel. And, he knew it, too. So, the idea was well out the window.

Killua really wasn't sure what next Saturday would bring. But, he knew he had a week to mentally prepare.

He lifted his phone and replied to the open message.

'Right. Forgot. I'll be there. Don't worry'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There! Chapter one is done. Hope you all liked it! Writing the dialogue in this was really fun--you probably already knew that though.


	2. Chapter 2

It was bizarre.

And, unbelievably _annoying_.

Days used to drag on and on, unrelentingly stretching far into this unlocatable, gray mist that Killua, eventually, defined as; _‘Eternity’._ Everyday, especially at work, he would pray to any Gods, that bothered to listen, and, he would beg them to speed up the clock. Beg them to bring the day to an end. To bring him closer to Friday night. Yet, every day remained the same--slow, unmoving, _eternal._

But, not this week.

No, not _this_ week-- _the one week_ Killua wished would last until the end of time. _The one week_ he actually needed every second of. _The one week_ he had left before committing emotional suicide… was _the week_ that the Gods, finally, decided to listen to his past, woeful requests.

And, he despised them for it.

It was Friday night, and, Killua had never felt sicker.

Yeah, Sunday was the most trying day he’d had in a long while, and, yes, he may have become more acquainted with his toilet than he’d ever hoped to be and he may have vomited so much, the skin underneath  his eyes had mildly bruised from unwanted tears… But, tonight really took the cake.

His palms had been cold and clammy since he’d woken up this morning. And, as the day went on, his stomach wouldn’t stop twisting. It felt like as if it had filled itself with lead, weighing him down, yet, at the same time, holding this liquidity that was churnable--sloshing everywhere, burning him, winding him.

His mind was in a flurry of anticipation, excitement and dread, reducing him to a strangely hypersensitive state. All day, he’d flinched at the slightest sounds. Cringed at the subtlest hand gestures. Jumped at the light tappings on his shoulder from customers who’d needed help, but, were blatantly ignored by his daze-befallen self.

He’d only withstood four hours of his closing shift before begging his manager to clock out early. Usually, when someone asked to leave work early--in his case, _four hours early--_ there would be penalties held or a heated lecture. But, Killua realized he may have looked as bad as he felt, for, he was only given a sympathetic nod.

Standing outside his apartment door, he heard muffled laughter and the soft buzz of music before the scraping of his key sliding into the doorknob replaced it. Unlocking it seemed abnormally easy. So easy, in fact, that it felt as if the key had turned itself.

Suddenly, the door was pulled away from him, metal jingling and drifting away. So, he hadn’t unlocked it, after all. Someone was leaving his apartment. Kurapika?

Killua raised his gaze from where the knob once was and jumped back immediately. His hand came to his mouth, tightly clasping around it to keep his scream tucked inside his throat. With painfully wide eyes, he stared into two orbs of brown honey.

“Oh, Killua! Hey!”

Gon.

Sunday was bad. Tonight was worse. And, right now… Killua wasn’t sure if Gon was standing in his threshold or if the _Grim Reaper_ was. He truly, truly felt like he was dying.

“What!!” He squeaked, voice muffled by his sweating palm. He tore it away, face completely drained of color, eyes dilated and more white than blue. “What’re you-- Wh--Why--Why, are you--”

His mind was bouncing, humming, vibrating--but, it wasn’t thinking.

“Sorry,” Gon grinned, face tan and carrying a natural tint of pink. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Killua wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready for that smile. Or, that smooth voice that always found a way to snake around his entire body--leaving behind trails of golden warmth and goosebumps. Posture stiff, the shorter male stepped back, putting distance between them before he doubled over and emptied his stomach for the umteenth time that week.

“Are you okay?” Gon blinked, stepping forward into the cold air, “You look really sick, Killua.”

Hearing his _name_ in that voice was especially difficult after a week of mind-numbing restlessness, and it had Killua’s heart thumping against his ribs.

“I’m fine!” he insisted, voice coming out louder than he’d intended, and, he shrunk back as a result, “I-I’m fine. Why’re you--why’re you here, Gon?”

The worried expression on the man’s face slipped away, and, he smiled. “I was having dinner with Kurapika and Leorio.”

“What!? Why?”

A confused frown. “Am I… not allowed to do that?”

“Not in my apartment, you’re not!” Killua was speaking _before_ thinking, now.

“Well, why not? It’s Kurapika’s apartment, too.” Gon’s frown lifted into a smirk, “What? Afraid I’d see how messy your room is?”

If only Gon knew what Killua was _really_ worried about.

Killua’s brows furrowed anxiously, “Were you in there? In my room?”

Gon laughed, “No, I’m just teasing. I wouldn’t go in there unless you invited me to.”

Killua gulped at the word choice. Though they used to alternate rooms for sleepovers, growing up, Killua didn’t think he could ever handle having Gon in his bedroom, again.

“Oh. Well.” He muttered, “You’re not invited.”

The raven let out a startled laugh, not having expected that response. “‘S’okay,” he soon shrugged, “I don’t really wanna smell your dirty socks, anyway.”

Killua’s cheeks flushed, warming instantly. “Th-they’re not--” He cut himself off, “‘Doesn’t matter--anyway, how long are you going to be here? Were you on your way out?” _Please, say yes._

Gon jerked a thumb towards the open doorway behind him. “Oh, no. We just finished eating. They’re in there, drinking wine, now. I came out to get some fresh air.”

Killua nodded as Gon lowered his hand. He wondered if he’d heard any of that correctly, what with his heart beating in his ears. “They’re so old. Drinking _wine.”_

“That’s not fair,” Gon snorted, “I know people our age that drink wine, Killua.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not,” he smiled.

Killua fought against cringing at Gon’s warm, focused eyes. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker, hoping to ease their trembling by balling them into fists. “Well--”

“--Wanna come in and join?”

Killua cocked a brow, and, without meaning to, he let out a small laugh. “Are you inviting me inside my own home, Gon?”

“Maybe.”

The invitation had Killua growing hotter than he was mere seconds ago. Even when the winter winds brushed passed him, flowing into his open jacket and against his neck, he still felt like he was burning up. Gon suggesting he join him inside had him truly realizing that he was _there._ At his apartment. In his sanctuary. And, he wasn’t leaving.

What should he do?

Should he just run to his room and lock the door? Ignore the fact that Gon was even there? No, that’d be suspicious. _Unless,_ he explained that he was feeling sick. Killua almost ran with that idea before realizing that ignoring the guy would be downright impossible. The walls were too thin. He’d hear his voice. The last thing he needed to listen to while in bed.

A third voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Okay, in or out. Pick one.”

The two men glanced at the doorway; Gon turning to the side, and Killua tilting to the right to see past him. Kurapika stood before them, clad in a navy sweater and dark jeans, holding the threshold with one hand and the doorknob with the other. He lifted a brow and repeated; “In or out.”

“Wow, Kurapika,” Gon snickered, “You sound a lot like Aunt Mito!”

“Yeah, you sound like _such_ a _mom~!”_ Killua drawled loudly, _purposefully,_ trying to attract the blonde’s attention. And, when those hazel eyes landed on him, he faced them with a fierce glare, silently wishing him death for bringing Gon to their apartment.

They’d been living together long enough that Kurapika immediately understood these unspoken threats and offered a sympathetic nod. “You said you were closing, I wasn’t expecting you to be here for another four hours.”

“I didn’t feel well,” he cleared his throat pointedly, _“You know?”_

Kurapika nodded, again, but, before he could reply, Gon was looking at Killua, almost worriedly, “Well, if you don’t feel well, you should really come inside and warm up, Killua.”

Killua shook his head quickly, awkwardly veering backwards. He shifted his eyes back to the blonde, “N-No…I think... I’m, uh…”

“...Going... to… get medicine?” Kurapika finished slowly, brows lifted.

Killua grinned, lifting a hand and pointing at him, “Yes! Medicine.” He turned to Gon, “I’m going to the store. So, I’ll be back.”

Without awaiting any kind of response, whatsoever, Killua turned on his heel and briskly headed down the stairs.

From above, he heard Kurapika ask; “You’re coming back in, then, Gon?” And, he sighed with relief, silently thanking Kurapika for the brilliant idea--the perfect excuse. The perfect plan!

Gon was murmuring something in response, but, Killua was too far down the staircase to make out his words. He didn’t care, though, because, he was out of there! He’d escaped a brush with death and he couldn’t have been happier.

Grinning widely to the dark walkway beneath his feet, his hand eagerly came up  to pull his keys out… of… his…

His sneakers came to such an abrupt halt that he was hit with vertigo, instantly.

He’d forgotten his keys in the fucking door!

And, as fate would have it--for the second time, that night--he heard Gon’s heavy boots trotting down the stairs, jingling like a cat donning a belled collar. Slowly, stiffly, tensely, Killua turned around, spinning on the heel of his right sneaker, rubber scraping against cement.

“Killua!” Gon panted, reaching the last step, “You forgot your keys.”

“I noticed,” Killua chuckled, forcing down his urge to scream.

“Here,” the raven held them out.

Killua reached forward and opened his palm. When the keys fell onto it, he curled his fingers around the cold metal and nodded, “Thanks. Uhm... See you later?”

“Oh!” Gon perked up, smiling a little sheepishly, “Actually… I was hoping that I could tag along?”

_No. No. No. No._

“I’m just going to get medicine, Gon,” Killua cocked a brow, “The store’s right around the corner.” The store was about five minutes away and he had been planning on hiding in the parking lot for the next few hours.

“Well, I _know_ you can get there safely,” the raven teased. “But, I wanted to get something, too."

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, Gon. No, you don’t.”

“I think _I_ would know if _I_ wanted to buy something, Killua.”

Killua’s hand fell to his side and he sighed, breath coming out in a visible cloud, “Well, _I know_ you don’t. You’re just saying that so I’ll let you come with me.”

Gon slipped his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, shrugging--smiling, unapologetically caught. “Is that a bad thing?”

Killua’s shoulders twitched upward, cheeks warming. And, as bad as he wanted to screech a resounding, _‘yes, it’s absolutely awful’,_ he murmured a, “...No,” instead.

“Great. Then, I can come?”

Killua gave an awkward shrug, lifting his shoulders and keeping them there, “We’re gonna be… hanging out, tomorrow, yanno… If we spend too much time together, tonight, we’ll run out of things to talk about.”

Gon stepped closer, peering down at him, lips curved, “When have we ever run out of things to talk about?”

He had a point. The fact that they could talk for hours upon hours, day after day--for years, was the most enticing thing about their relationship. He couldn’t think of a single time they’d come up short on conversation. When Gon was around, Killua just talked. Plain and simple. Even moments prior, at his apartment door, he’d managed to keep up and respond to the man, regardless of his anxiety.

“Doesn’t matter,” Killua bit out, “You’re not coming.”

“Why not?”

“My front seat has stuff in it…”

“I’ll sit in the back.”

“My back seat has even more stuff in it.”

“Trunk.”

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll just walk and meet you there.”

Even with the shadows of night settled on him, the persistent smile on Gon’s lips was annoyingly evident. But, what was even worse was that bronze stare hanging above it, eyes alluring and full of perceptivity. Those eyes knew Killua too well. They made him weak. They made him turn away, forcing him down the walkway, heels scuffing against the ground.

\---

Killua’s car was a small four-door. It was boxy in shape, and a rather old model, but, it was well-kept with recently retouched, black paint. While he had a wealthy background, he always found himself drawn to older makes.

Two doors opened and closed.

“Wow! Your car really _is_ cluttered.”

Killua slipped his key in the ignition and glanced around the car. Cream interior… _not a single thing inside._ He looked ahead and turned the key, “Shut up.”

So, he’d lied. He hadn't expected Gon to be so persistent.

Killua heard Gon’s snicker alongside the buckling of his seatbelt. He couldn't believe this; he hadn't been able to think about Gon, all week, without breaking out in a cold sweat. And, here they were, side by side in a small, enclosed space.

As they took off, he felt an uncomfortably ominous pressure coming from his right.

“Stop staring at me,” he mustered, lips pulled into a faint frown.

“You look so focused, Killua.”

A silver brow quirked, “I’m _driving.”_

Gon leaned back in his seat, giving a breathy chuckle. “Usually, people who drive automatics don't look so tense.”

“Why's that?”

“‘Cause. The car pretty much drives itself.”

Killua snorted, “Is this coming from a fellow owner?”

Gon shook his head, lips curving, again. “No, I drive a stick shift!” His head tilted questioningly when Killua began to shake his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” Killua’s smile was small, “‘T’s just, you _would_ drive a car that's complicated for no reason.”

Gon’s laughter joined the other’s, filling the, otherwise silent, vehicle. “It’s not complicated! It's easy. Makes you feel like you're in control, you know?”

_“Right.”_

“It’s easy. You should consider switching.”

Killua made a left turn, “Why? So my, normally peaceful, rides can feel like _this?”_ As they straightened out on the empty road, Killua began alternating between pressing the brakes and the gas, causing the two to jerk forward and pull back. It wasn’t until they both broke out in laughter, did he stop.

“Okay, c’mon, you’re overexaggerating. It’s not like that, at all!” Gon panted, lips stretched into a large grin. He pointed at the man beside him, “And, if it is--’just means you’re a crappy driver!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Killua snorted, traces of his smile still lingering on his mouth, though, his heart was still thumping rapidly, “‘Pretty sure my first time driving a stick shift would be my _last time_ driving-- _period.”_

“Maybe, with _that_ attitude,” Gon teased, “But, if you wanted, I could teach you.”

“I'm never going to buy one, Gon.”

The raven shrugged, “You never know, though! You could end up running for your life, one day, and could be looking for an escape and the only car you end up finding--within _miles_ \--is a stick shift. What’ll you do, _then?”_

Gon’s voice was awfully enthusiastic for such a hypothetical. Killua wondered if the guy really believed something like that could happen. Keeping his eyes ahead, he muttered; “‘Dunno. _Die._ I guess.”

Gon didn’t laugh. He did lean in a bit, however, and Killua could feel that gaze running over his right side, flowing like warm, touchless water. His body stiffened, eyes desperately trying to remain focused on the road.

“What…?"

“I could teach you, you know.”

“...I doubt it…”

He heard Gon shift in his seat--could feel his presence draw nearer.

“No, I could. I really could,” his voice had the hairs on Killua’s nape standing on end. It was low, fluid-- _husky._ His hand lifted and he began to tap the leather of the emergency brake between them, “We could hold it together, you know. My hand around yours. I could help you get in tune with every _pulse_ of the car and _guide your hand--”_

 _“--Gon!”_ Killua exclaimed, voice cracking. His hands were clutching the wheel so tightly, his knuckles were turning white. “--Th-that’s--what the--that sounds--”

“--Dirty?” Gon finished, pulling away, lips quirking into a delighted smirk.

“Uhm--yeah!”

The raven’s smile gave way to bouts of frivolous laughter, hand raising and jabbing Killua in the side with an index finger.

“What’s so funny!?” Killua snapped, pulse racing. “S-Stop poking me, dammit!”

“Your face! You’re so pale--paler than usual, Killua!” Gon managed between laughs, “I got you! I got you!”

Killua wasn’t sure if his heart was racing because he was embarrassed, angry or replaying those words in his head--over and over. Either way, he felt like curling into the fetal position.

“Wh-what’re you _talking_ about, you moron!”

Gon’s laughter had subsided, though, the grin on his face was fairly prominent. “You're always the one making people uncomfortable with your jokes. So, I wanted to do it to _you!”_ He snickered, “And, it worked!”

 _What horrible timing_ , Killua seethed inwardly, putting the car in park. “You idiot. You set all that up, didn’t you? You probably don’t even drive a stick, do you!? Just said it to set up that stupid prank.”

Gon was laughing, again, “No! No! I do! I do.”

Killua huffed, shaking his head at his giggling companion. “We’re here, by the way.” He glanced over at him, “Let’s make this as fast as possible, okay? I’ll go to straight to the medicine aisle and you go wherever you _so-need_ to go.”

Gon hummed, peering at him. “What? You wanna split up? That’s no fun.”

Killua shrugged, “‘T’s not like you’re gonna be alone--you’ll have your horrible jokes to keep you company.”

\---

It was supposed to be quick and easy.

Killua had used the few minutes of solitude to center himself, nervously standing between towering shelves of colorful liquids and pills, deep breaths going in and out.

He didn’t want to spend money on something he didn’t need, but, with how suffocating Gon could be, at times--in the past and apparently, _now--_ he knew he’d need to back up his lie.

Gon had ended up buying a large bag of chocolate--obviously, having just picked up whatever was within arm’s reach when he saw Killua sauntering to the register. Killua saw him do it. Saw him tense up, look around and grab it. He’d never been sneaky.

From there, the night should have went exactly as Killua planned, the moment Gon sat his happy ass in his passenger seat, that is.

Get in, get out. Go home. Suffer in his room.

The perfect, seamless night.

But, of course, as fate would have it _thrice,_ that night, Gon didn’t want to go home. Gon didn’t even want to get back in the _car._ No, what Gon actually wanted to do was ‘hang out’, and, torture Killua some more.

After losing a battle of wills, Killua found himself sitting on the trunk of his car, right beside the perseverant raven. In the silent parking lot, away from the few cars present, the two sat, out of the lights, alone in the shadows of the crisp, winter night.

Killua had the notion that if he just gave Gon what he wanted, they could go home sooner. So, he tried not to be standoffish, tried his best to succumb to casual conversation, no matter how incessant the humming of his nerves was becoming. He promised himself that if he could get through this little dent in luck, he could get through _Saturday,_ as well. He put all his money on it.

Killua stared down at his trembling hands, gripping his knees to ease them. His attention was stolen, however, when a bag ripped open beside him. He watched his friend, clad in dark jeans and a darker tee, stick his hand inside and pull out a small handful of round, chocolate pieces.

“Shouldn’t you be freezing, or something?” He asked, eyeing Gon’s exposed arms. Thick muscles wrapped in smooth, tanned skin. Ame City hadn’t seen the sun in a long time, and, yet, Gon looked as if he basked in its golden rays every day. He’d always been like that, though. Radiating. Glowing--warm.

Gon smiled, shaking his head. He swallowed. “No, I run really hot. Weather like this doesn’t bother me.”

“It did, _before,”_  Killua half-heartedly teased, “Probably doesn’t, now, ‘cause you’re ripped.”

“I’m not _ripped,_ Killua,” Gon snorted, popping more chocolate in his mouth. “Just bigger than _you.”_

Killua swallowed shallowly, not wanting to be reminded of such a feat--of the fact that Gon could probably throw him with a single hand. He rolled his eyes and shoved his hand in the bag, as he pulled it out, a smirk danced on his lips, “‘Could still kick _your ass,_ though.”

Gon nodded, “Mm. Probably could. In a _foot race,_ maybe.”

Mouth unnecessarily full, Killua glared at the man, _“Bmooh, bwai coo’ poda--”_ He ducked his head and spit out the majority of chocolate stuffing his cheeks, Gon frowned at the waste, but, his eyes lit up when Killua’s met them, again. “I could _totally_ kick your ass, Gon.”

“No. You couldn’t.”

“Yes. I could. Why couldn’t I? You’re not _that_ much bigger than I am.” That was a slight lie. Aforementioned, Gon wasn’t a brute, but, he was undeniably bigger than Killua. His arms were thicker, his shoulders were broader, waist--wider, thighs--larger.

“Because,” Gon smiled in that usual, positive manner that contrasted greatly to the offensive words spilling from his lips, “I’m _physically stronger._ I always have been. Even when I was shorter than you--remember?”

“Nope.”

“Three syllables, Killua. Three.”

Killua’s shoulders hunched, and he scowled. He didn’t want to revisit _that_ memory, but, he found himself biting out; “Tramp-o- _fucking-_ line.”

Gon laughed, “That’s five. But, mhmm. Trampoline. So, you _do_ remember!”

Killua grumbled incoherently, thinking back to the first--and only--time he’d ever been knocked out cold by a single punch. “That was a stupid fight.”

“Says the one who started it,” Gon quipped.

“I don’t even remember why,” Killua admitted, shaking his head. “I just remember getting in your face on the damn thing and then we were fighting.”

Gon sighed, smiling at the nostalgia in the air, “That was our first physical fight, wasn’t it?”

“That was our _only_ physical fight, Gon.”

“Really?” The man blinked, “Hmm, I feel like I’ve knocked you out a lot, though…” He grinned teasingly, “Maybe, ‘cause it’d be _so easy.”_

“Jackass,” Killua growled, elbowing him without any intention on hurting him. He fought against his twisting stomach and began grinding his elbow in warm ribs. “Think you could still do it, _now?_ I’m faster, you know. I could zip around and whack you on the head before you even realized it.”

Gon tipped toward him, just slightly, smirking, “Which one?”

Just like that, Killua had retracted his arm and underwent minute paralysis, staring at the raven with wide eyes.

Gon’s smirk lifted to a smile, just as before, and he laughed wholeheartedly, head tipping back. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry--it’s just too good!”

Killua glared, throwing his hand down at the space between them, palm slapping cold metal.  “Dammit, Freecss! What’s wrong with you--when’d you get so dirty?”

The other man waved his hand, “I’m not--I’m not. It’s just really rewarding to give you a taste of your own medicine--” He paused, hand dropping. His carefree gaze hardened. “Killua. Take your medicine.”

Killua’s mouth became an awkwardly tight, closed line. He’d forgotten about it, and, he’d hoped Gon had, too, so he could return it the next day and get his money back. “I… did… already.”

“No, you didn’t,” Gon frowned, not buying his lie for a second, “Take it--now. I don’t want you to be sick, tomorrow, and not be able to come over.”

Killua’s stomach dropped at the reminder. “It’s fine, Gon, really. Sick, or not, I’ll… I’ll be there.”

“But… I really…” Gon was muttering, now--to himself, mostly, “...Need you to _not_ be sick, tomorrow.”

Killua wondered why, amidst the confusion from seeing the man murmur to himself. He settled on it being because a sick mind couldn’t produce the most efficient advice. His heart clenched at the thought, and, it didn’t feel too great.

In attempts at distracting himself, he pulled the bottle of medicine from his jacket pocket and held it out for Gon to see, wiggling it once.

“Take it.”

“I _am.”_

After ridding it of its plastic wrapping, Killua slid the measuring cup into his pocket and twisted the lid. He raised it up high and nodded, drearily murmuring; “Down the hatch…” before bringing it to his lips.

It was grape flavor, the only flavor that tasted the least like medicine and more like syrup. It still burned going down, and, he grimaced as a result, pulling it away from his mouth.

“Yuck,” he frowned, twisting the cap on and setting it down behind them, “There. You happy?”

Gon gave a single nod, setting the bag of candy down. “Mhm. You better not be sick, tomorrow.”

“You do know that this isn’t some type of _‘miracle juice’,_ right? Medicine doesn’t work that fast.”

Gon frowned and Killua understood why.

“I mean, I’ll still be there,” he reassured.

The frown lifted slightly, Gon’s hand coming down to the metal space between them. “Thanks, Killua.”

“Mhmm…”

Thinking about ‘tomorrow’ had Killua feeling a variety of things. Some of them, not too nice, and, a few of them… strange. He had the most bizarre urge to go against Kurapika’s warning.

Blue eyes glanced down at the two inches between either of their hands. He had the slightest itch to slide his hand over, diminish the gap, and run his fingers over Gon’s. Tell him something charming, or, endearing. Make him smile. Make him his.

He almost wanted to hop off the trunk, stand himself before the man’s knees, hold them and create an intimate atmosphere, noses close like they were, last weekend. He wished he could press his arm against Gon’s, again. Rest his head on his shoulder, another time. _Make him his_. Make him forget this sudden, new name in his life-- _Lani._

He felt ill with dread, and, at the same time, burned with greed.

His greed was meaningless, he knew--as Gon was straight. He needed to heed to that, no matter how anguishing. Gon was his best friend. Gon was counting on him. And, if Gon deserved anything, at all--he deserved the friend he believed Killua to be.

So, he stuck a smile on his face. “I’m excited, you know.”

Gon blinked, glancing over. “For tomorrow?”

“Mhm. Yeah.”

“Really?” Gon’s head tilted with surprise, “Wh-why?”

“Mm, dunno.” Killua shrugged, “I get to see your new place. That’s probably why.”

“Is that _it?”_

Killua eyed him, “What, want me to say I’m excited to see _you,_ again?”

Gon’s hand slid to his, bumping against his cold skin. “Only if you mean it.”

Killua snorted, “‘Can’t really be excited to see you when I’m _still_ seeing you, Freecss.”

The raven didn’t appear discouraged. He smiled softly, “Well, _I_ was excited to see _you,_ again, when we were still drunk at HXH.”

Were his cheeks warming up? Killua swallowed, trying to ward off the sudden delight tingling in his chest, “Well. That’s because I’m kind of irresistible, Gon. I’d be excited to see me, too.”

“Yeah, okay,” Gon laughed, nudging the other man’s hand--quickening their heart beat a tad, “Sure, Killua, sure.”

Killua stuck his tongue out, “Get told that _all_ the time.”

“Yeah, right!”

“‘T’s true. If anyone’s _resistible,_ here, it’s _you,_ Gon. You’re pretty average. Especially, compared to me. Just average, average, little Gon. That’s what you are.”

He felt Gon’s hand pry his pinky finger off of the trunk, felt those hot fingers wrap around it and pull it back, trying to elicit subtle pain. Gon smirked, “‘Thought you said I wasn’t ‘easily replaced’.”

Killua melted at the tilt of tan lips, the touch of burning fingers. He feigned indifference. “Yeah, not easily replaced. You’re right. Like, how a weird gear to an ancient clock isn’t. Not easy to find the same one. But, you could, if you tried.”

Gon grabbed his hand and pulled it from the trunk. Their fingers became intertwined and Killua yelped when Gon’s began to squeeze together, pinching his knuckles.

“Take that back!” the raven barked, tone playful and full of fictitious anger.

Killua felt his heart writhe, yet again, at the contact, but, refused to give into it. He grinned back, putting all his strength in his hand and trying to bend Gon’s back, “No way, Freecss!”

“Take it back!” Gon started to laugh as they began competing, trying to get the other to forfeit. To Killua, it reminded him of when they used to play “Mercy”, growing up. He was sure Gon felt the same.

“Nope!”

Killua lifted his free hand and coiled his fingertips underneath Gon’s trying to pry them away.

“H-Hey--Killua! That’s cheating!” In return, Gon lifted his other hand, as well, although, it wasn’t aimed for their locked fingers. Instead, it raised and pinched Killua’s cheek, pulling on it.

“G-Gon--what the h-hell!” Killua slurred.

“This is what you get for--”

The two paused as something buzzed between them. Gon looked down to see a glowing square, barely showing through the fabric of his jeans. He pinched Killua one more time, drawing a hiss from the man, before removing his hand and pulling the phone out of his pocket.

“Hey, Leorio.”

Killua swallowed thickly, noticing their hands had fallen to rest on the cold metal of his trunk, fingers still weaved together. Gon’s palm was warm--Gon’s palm felt _right._ Felt like it should always be pressed against his. Made for his. The sensation had Killua wanting to forget all else and surrender to the taste of fantasy--to believe that their hands were fastened for a greater cause. Because, Gon loved him.

“Alright. ‘Be right there.”

Killua cleared his throat as Gon lowered his phone. “What’s up?”

“Oh, Leorio just took a shift at the ER. I guess someone couldn’t make it in. I drove us here.”

“Oh, so.”

“Yeah.”

Killua was about to pull his hand away, when Gon raised it and squeezed it, “Though, it was fun holding hands with you--” he grinned mockingly, “Your hands are so soft and clean--you don’t do much with them, do you?”

Killua huffed, “I do a ton with them, Mr. High-and-mighty-construction-worker.”

Gon let go and hopped off the trunk. Lips curving, “Sure, Killua. Sure.”

Killua followed after, swiping the bag of chocolate and medicine from his trunk, scowling.

\---

When Gon and Leorio left, Killua remained at the front door, breath coming out in shallow puffs.

Kurapika stood with the perfect stillness of a statue, biting the fat of his bottom lip, facing him from a short distance. The silence, quickly flooding into their room, was unnerving. Its intensity had his ears ringing, however, he refrained from breaking it. Killua looked distraught, but, it wasn’t clear whether the man found the silence deteriorative or mending, and, Kurapika wasn’t willing to risk the man’s mental stability by finding out.

There was a moment where breathing couldn’t be heard.

And, Killua slid to the floor, windbreaker scraping against the door. He heaved a sigh, legs bent messily before him. “Kurapika…”

The blonde nodded and headed over promptly. He wasn’t usually this obedient or hesitant. But, he was always a friend, and, always there to support. “Hey,” he said, emphasizing a calm tone, hoping it would reach the man and soothe his nerves.

“Don’t…” Killua mustered, eyes falling shut, head bowing, “Don’t ever. Ever. Invite Gon here without telling me.”

Kurapika didn’t bother to argue about apartment freedom. He merely nodded. “I’m sorry. I was under the impression you would be home late.”

Killua sighed, again.

“How… was it? Are you alright?” Kurapika asked carefully.

It took a moment, but, eventually, Killua was nodding, lifting his head. He coiled his legs to his center, bending them and resting his crossed forearms atop his knees.

“It was… fine. Nice.” Killua murmured, “I’m… okay.”

Kurapika sunk to the floor, not wanting to offend the man by the imbalance. He crossed his legs beneath him and nodded, gazing patiently.

“I left work early because I was freaking out too much. I couldn’t focus. I wanted to throw up.”

“I see…”

“When I saw Gon…” His brows pinched together, “I almost had a heart attack. He was the last person I wanted to see--let alone, be stuck in a tiny car with him.”

“...How… Erm… What did…”

“...He wanted to ‘hang out’ and sit on the trunk of my car. So, we did. And, God…” Killua shook his head, letting his forehead lower to rest on his arm. “I like him a lot. It’s embarrassing and annoying to admit out loud. But, I do. And, I was getting anxious and I was getting mad. I wanted to run and I wanted to stay…”

It was silent, again.

“...I can’t do it...”

It was a whisper. And, it was fragile.

“Well, you can. You got through tonight, without any warning. You can get through tomorrow, as well.”

“...I don’t know.”

“No, you can. And, will.” Kurapika insisted, voice, both, calm and rigid. “You have anxiety, Killua. And, anxiety births monsters from unconfronted fears. So, there are two steps we’re going to take.”

Killua lifted his head, eyeing the blonde. “We?”

“Mm. We.” Kurapika affirmed. “The first step--naming your fear.”

Killua leaned forward and rested his chin on his arm. “Fear… I don’t… I’m not afraid of anything… I just--it just hurts.”

“If it already hurts, what are you worrying about, then?” Kurapika had rid his tone of its softness, focusing on keeping it stern. Killua remained silent, mind going blank.

Kurapika noted that and continued; “So, then, it’s fear.”

“M… maybe.” Killua’s brows furrowed, again, thinking deeply, “But, I don’t… I can’t think of anything--I can’t pinpoint it… If it is.”

Kurapika allowed a soundless moment to pass, patiently watching his friend contemplate. He picked up on the subtle details of the pale face before him, and, decided to step in.

“Mind if I?”

“Sure… Go ahead.”

“There are only two things I can surmise that you’d be afraid of…” He held Killua’s stare firmly, “Are you, maybe, afraid that you’re going to lose Gon to someone who makes him happy? Or, are you afraid of how hard it’s going to hit you once the deed is done and Gon is on his way?”

Killua’s eyes widened, body stilling to such an extent, he wasn’t sure if he was still breathing. He swallowed, after a moment, moistening his dry throat.

Which was it? He thought frantically. To lose Gon and never have a chance at being with him? No. He… He would never _lose_ Gon. Even if Gon couldn’t reciprocate his romantic feelings, Gon would always be there for him. Would always be his friend. It wasn’t Killua’s fault that Gon didn’t love him in that way. Neither, was it Gon’s.

If someone made Gon happy in the specific way Killua couldn’t, he shouldn’t be mad. Shouldn’t be jealous. _He_ should be happy, too. That’s what friends do. They’re supportive and strive to push each other towards happiness.

He should be happy Gon found Lani. That Gon liked her so much he begged Killua for his help to impress her. That she made him so happy that Gon _wanted to._

Clearing his throat, Killua replied, “The latter.”

“Alright.” Kurapika nodded, posture relaxing slightly, “So, you’re afraid of the hurt that’ll follow.”

“Mnhh…”

“Does sorting out your fear relieve some of the stress?”

Killua nodded. And, he wasn’t lying. Realizing that Gon would always be his friend had his nerves relaxing. Had him realizing he needed to work on _himself--_ on being more selfless.

“Good, good.”

“Step two?” Killua rose a brow.

“Step two is going to have to wait, given your answer. Two, is formulating a plan. To deal with anxiety, you have to come up with a plan of action to counter it and keep it from consuming you.”

“You sure know a lot about anxiety, Kurapika."

“I’ve lived with you for four years, haven’t I?” he teased lightly, earning a disgruntled simper. “I read up on it.”

“I see. So, I take it we’re waiting because it isn’t certain how I’m going to feel, exactly.”

“Mhmm. Once it’s all over, we’ll find a way for you to cope.”

Killua nodded. It was silent, again. He coughed quietly, “...Thanks…For that…”

“Yeah,” Kurapika nodded, pulling himself from the ground. “Anyway, you should get some rest.”

“Mm. Wait. Hey.”

The blonde blinked, “Hm?”

“What would be step two if… you know, if I’d picked the former?”

“Not sure.” Kurapika paused before smiling knowingly, “I figured I would just tell you everything you told yourself.”

\---

When Saturday morning met Ame City, Killua’s hands weren’t clammy.

His pulse wasn’t racing.

His heart wasn’t thumping.

No, instead, he felt… okay.

He felt good. Empowered. At peace. It was all thanks to Kurapika, he knew, for the blonde’s words struck him at the core. They made him think and realize an immense thing he’d failed to, before. And, he was grateful.

Even more so, now, acknowledging the fact that he was able to knock on Gon’s front door with ease.

Gon lived on the far end of the city, around more greenery and space. This didn’t come to Killua as a surprise. Gon had always loved nature.

A breeze swept past and Killua pulled his windbreaker closer to his body. It was a different one, this time--a pale lavender. And, though, his torso was nice and warm, his calves were freezing.

He’d worn his favorite pair of basketball shorts, black with a white stripe running down either side. He figured that if he was going to be in an uncomfortable situation, he might as well dress comfortably. Kurapika had mentioned to him that subtle actions, such as that, are ways to counter anxiety. That was when Killua told him to stop binge reading about it.

The door opened abruptly and a familiar, warm aroma greeted the young man outside.

“Killua, hey!” Gon greeted, smiling.

Killua nodded, “Hey.”

“Come in!” He stepped to the side, holding his door wide open for Killua to step through. “You’re in time for dinner--I just finished making it.”

“You cook, now, _too?”_ Killua snorted.

“Aunt Mito used to teach me, you know?”

“Right, I remember, now,” Killua stepped forward.

“I made spaghetti--your favorite,” Gon watched his friend step over the threshold, “It’s still your favorite, right?”

“Y-yeah, it is. Gon, you didn’t have to--”

The door closed behind them and Gon smiled sheepishly, “I wanted to. Just to show my appreciation.”

“Didn't I always tell you friends don't have to thank each other…” Killua murmured, slipping out of his shoes. He walked further into the abode, looking up, down, left and right.

The kitchen was close to the front entrance, the aroma of pasta leaked from the open doorway as he passed it. Gon’s apartment was a little smaller than Killua’s, yet it seemed much bigger--more open. Each wall was this very pale, pastel yellow, giving it a very Gon-esque atmosphere, and, he figured that was why.

He smiled softly, noticing all of the potted plants littered throughout the living room.

His eyes widened a fraction at a frame on the wall.

“Hey.” Killua stood before it.

“Oh, that?”

“Mm.”

Gon came to stand beside the other man, peering at it, as well. It was a blown up photograph of Gon’s grandmother, his aunt, Gon, himself, and Killua.

“Jeez, how old were we, here?”

Gon hummed. “Thirteen, I think.”

Killua snorted, “Almost ten years ago…” He tapped the glass with his knuckle, “I miss them. I miss this house.”

“Miss the trampoline, too?”

Killua shuddered irritably before jabbing the man with his elbow, softly, playfully. “Shut up.”

Gon snickered, elbowing him back.

“Are we gonna eat, or what?” Killua asked, sending another jab. Gon dodged it, smiling.

“Yeah, yeah--where do you wanna eat? Table? Couch?... Trampoline?”

Killua growled, turning and lunging at the raven, with both hands. “If you don’t stop--”

Gon’s laughter sifted into Killua’s ears, again, as he caught two pale wrists in his large hands. He squeezed them, “But, Killua--it was _so funny.”_

Killua yanked on his arms, scowling, “No, it wasn’t! Let go, dammit--I’m gonna--we’re gonna fight.” Gon’s smooth chuckling had Killua wanting to smile at him. And, he almost did, before deciding to keep things casual--normal.

“We’re going to _fight?_ Killua, I really don’t want you to pass out before we even eat dinner,” Gon taunted, grasp unrelenting.

“You don’t have to worry about that, jackass,” Killua grunted, trying to claw at the man--he could only move his hands, and, even that was difficult. “ _You’re_ the one who’ll be out cold--in a second--”

“Wow, you’re like a cat,” Gon laughed, swinging Killua’s arms around mockingly, avoiding his claws. “How’re you gonna knock me out when you can’t even break free?”

Killua huffed, “Just watch!”

With his arms held apart, Killua had the grand idea to headbutt the guy. He leaned back and lunged forward. A hiss left his lips when he collided with something hard--when his _forearms_ rang with pain.

Gon’s laughter loudened when Killua glared up at him, forehead reddening. That bastard--he’d swung Killua’s arms together to form a shield. And, Killua ran right into it.

Finally freeing pale wrists, Gon stepped away, “You’re losing your touch, Killua. Go ahead and sit, I’ll get the food.”

Killua grumbled a few curse words, heading for the round dining table near the kitchen. It wasn’t until he was sitting alone, that he noticed his hands were quivering. He’d overcome his worries of speaking to Gon about his love interest, but, just merely touching the raven still had his stomach in knots. He hadn’t expected that aspect to disappear, though.

“Here you go,” Gon’s voice murmured as a plate of steaming spaghetti was placed before him.

“Oh, thanks,” Killua sat up. Picking up his fork, he watched Gon take the seat adjacent from him. “‘Better be good, Freecss.”

Gon rolled his eyes with a teasing air, already chewing behind closed lips. Killua lifted his fork and slid the pasta into his mouth. He’d been planning on pretending to gag upon eating it, but, when the flavor seeped onto his tongue, he realized he wasn’t so great of an actor that he could pull it off. It was the best spaghetti he’d ever had. And, his satisfaction must’ve been obvious, as he caught sight of Gon’s lips lift into a faint simper.

The smile looked special, to him. As if, no one else had ever seen it.

“Hey, Killua.” The minute silence between them, as they ate, was broken.

“What?”

Gon glanced at him, “You said you left early, yesterday. What do you do?”

“Oh, me?” Killua swallowed his food. He wagged the fork casually, “I work at a skate shop.”

Gon smiled, “You always liked skateboarding. I almost forgot.”

“Yeah, ‘don’t skate much, anymore, though,” he sighed, not really having a reason as to why he’d stopped. “But, we sell boards and parts and clothes.”

“That’s why you dress like you’re in a magazine, huh?”

Killua flushed, “What’d’you mean?”

Gon shrugged, “You just dress cool. But, you were always like that.” He leaned back and squinted his eyes, smiling, again, “You never used to have a ponytail, though.”

Killua’s hand came up to the back of his head as a reflex. While his bangs and the majority of his hair remained naturally messy, he’d tied just a portion of white hair in a small tail, just below the top of his head.

“Windbreaker. Shorts. Cool sneakers and a ponytail. You really _are_ fashionable.”

“Sh-Shut up, I’m not _fashionable.”_

“Yeah, you are.”

Killua scoffed, “I’m not.”

“Then, why’s your hair up? It’s not like it’s long. It doesn’t need to be.”

“It’s up, because, I like it.”

Gon’s eyes flicked all over Killua’s appearance. From his eyes, to his bangs, to his hair, back to his eyes, again. “I like it, too.” He turned to his plate, “It’s cute.”

Killua’s stomach flipped. He looked away, mumbling, “You always say such weird things so casually…” Gon was silent. Killua sent his foot forward and nudged Gon’s ankle. “Guys don’t tell each other they’re cute, you know.”

A chuckle, “I don’t care what _guys_ do.” He nudged him back. “I think you’re--I think it’s cute, so, I told you. That’s what _I_ do.”

Killua didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d caught Gon’s slip up and it had his stomach churning. He had to maintain control of himself--of his nerves. He couldn’t be swooning when he was there solely to help the man. He needed to get this night over with.

He wolfed down the rest of his meal before pushing from the table. Gon turned his head to follow the man as he strode past.

Killua tapped his shoulder, “Let’s go to the couch and get started, already.”

\---

Gon’s living room had little furniture, a long coffee table, two couches and a TV hanging on the wall. Killua stared at the black screen as Gon got comfortable on the couch, right beside him.

“So…” Killua started, though, he didn’t want to. “ _Lani._ Right?”

Gon’s movements paused briefly before he relaxed, leaning against the back of the sofa. “Hm? Oh. Yeah.”

 _This will be easy,_ Killua reminded himself, _have his best interests in mind. Remember everything Kurapika said..._

“What’s she like?” Killua turned and bent his right leg to rest on the cushion. He faced Gon full-on and pressed the side of his arm against the cushion. “I feel like I should know, if I’m going to give you advice.”

Gon shrugged rather sheepishly, “I… I don’t know. She’s… Well, she’s,” copper eyes lowered to his lap, “Nice. ‘Makes me laugh a lot.”

Killua wasn’t sure he liked that, very much. But, he offered a smile, anyway, “That’s good, Gon. If she couldn’t make you laugh, I’d tell you to forget it.”

Gon glanced at him, chuckling, “Why?”

“‘Cause, you like to laugh. You have a nice laugh, too, you know. If she couldn’t bring that out, I wouldn’t have much faith in your relationship,” he stilled, “Are you… two... in a…?”

Gon shook his head, “No. We’re not anything, really. I was just going to take her out, tomorrow.”

A silver brow raised, “Tomorrow? ‘Thought you said Monday.”

“Oh!” Gon perked up, “I meant, Monday. Monday.”

“Right,” Killua muttered, “So, what do you need help with, exactly?”

Gon shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t want to blow it, though.”

“Do you not know how to act around a girl, or something?” Killua asked, genuinely curious.

“I’ve never been interested in anyone, before. But, I know what Aunt Mito’s taught me.”

“Yeah, but, she’s like, a mom. They always have a different outlook on things like this,” Killua snorted.

“Hm,” the raven hummed, “I guess you have a point.”

“Look,” Killua lifted a hand nonchalantly, waving it as he spoke, “You like her a lot. You want her to like you back. And, it’s putting pressure on the whole thing. Right?”

A nod.

“Well, you gotta cut that out. Pressure’s only going to ruin your date. You just… have to be yourself and feel the atmosphere. You know?”

“Be myself.” Another nod.

“Yup. It’s a pretty simple task, but, we all forget to do it, sometimes.” Killua smiled faintly, “But, I mean, if she agreed to go on a date with you. You must’ve done something right, without realizing. Which means, you were already being yourself.”

“That makes sense,” Gon found himself smiling back. “What else?”

“Hm? Uhm. Be polite. Girls--no, _everyone_ likes that. Just,” he snickered, lifting his arm and stretching it out towards Gon, hand dangling, “Just take her hand and kiss it--all the time. And, say, ‘Milady’, any chance you can.”

Gon chuckled, shaking his head. Killua wiggled his hand. “I’m waiting~”

Gon paused, “But, you’re not a lady.”

“So? You have to practice.” He wiggled it, again.

“Practice?” Gon laughed, “Killua, take this seriously. No one wants to be called ‘Milady’. _I_ don’t even like to _say it.”_

Killua persisted, holding his hand out. “Hey, if she really has a sense of humor, she’ll appreciate it. It’ll be like… a joke.”

Sighing, but, giving in, Gon raised his hand and held Killua’s gently, as if it’d break under too much pressure. He bowed his head and pressed his lips against the pale skin. Killua held his breath at the sensation, realizing that this was a bad move, on his part. Maybe, he should keep from being _too playful._

“Milady,” Gon murmured, glancing up at blue eyes.

Killua pulled his hand away, forcing an even smile to play on his lips, “That was okay. Maybe, say ‘milady’ _before_ the kiss. If you pull it off, she’ll think you’re funny. Probably fall for you, right then and there.”

“Whatever,” Gon gave a small smile, “That’s not going to work, you know. It’s going to be creepy.” A pause. “Would that work on you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“But, what if it was? Would it work?”

Killua’s lips quirked upwards, “No. It’d be weird.”

“See!”

“Well, I mean, it wouldn’t be weird if _you_ did it. I’d laugh. If someone else did it, I’d leave.”

Gon took a moment before nodding, “Same. If _you_ did it, I’d think it was cute.”

“Y-Yeah. But, it’s not about _us,_ you know,” Killua quickly reminded, both, Gon _and himself._ “It’s about the girl you like.”

The look on Gon’s face was strange--unexpected. Killua couldn’t name the expression, but, he knew it was far from excited--like he’d imagined it would be, all week. If he had to guess… he’d settle for _crestfallen._

“Let’s get off this topic. Let’s move onto the date part.”

“Oh. Okay…”

“What’re you planning on doing?”

The raven pulled a rather pensive expression, eyes darting all over his lap. To Killua, it looked as if Gon hadn’t thought that far ahead. But, he should’ve, right? He’d known about the date for a week, as far as Killua was concerned.

“Uhm.” He glanced up at the other man, “We were going to go to dinner.”

“Huh~?” Killua tipped his head to the side, “Wouldn’t dinner be rather… serious?”

“Do you think so?”

Did he? Or, was he just saying that selfishly?

“Well, I mean… It might be. What type of girl is she--generally? If you know that much, then, you’ll be able to figure out what’s the best thing to do, which, would boost chemistry. Is she studious and ‘in charge’--I guess? Or, is she carefree and spontaneous?”

“Carefree,” he nodded, “Spontaneous.”

“Alright, so, she’s like you,” Killua snorted, “Would _you_ like to go to a fancy dinner on the first date?”

Gon rose a brow, lips curving, “What, like, if I was taking myself out?”

“Yeah. If she’s funny, carefree and spontaneous, like you are, you probably-- _probably--_ think similarly.” Killua shrugged, “So, would a fancy dinner leave a lasting impression on you? D’you think you could hit it off with a stranger, over some fine steak? With pianos playing in the background?”

Gon’s nose scrunched up, “No, that sounds boring.”

“I think so, too,” Killua replied, laughing quietly, “Alright. Then… do something… fun. What do you think would be fun to do?”

Gon frowned, legs parting to rest comfortably. Killua did his best not to look down.

“Going on a hike or going swimming.”

“No trails around here. And, for the second one, I’d wait until Summer.”

“Oh, right, right,” Gon laughed quietly. “This is kind of hard. I can’t think of anything. I kinda wish she was more like you. You don’t care what we do, so long as, we’re together.”

Killua felt flattered at the raven’s words, but, tried not to let it deter him. “Yeah, but, she’s not me, Gon.”

“I _know_ she’s not you…”

Killua lifted a hand and poked Gon’s forehead. “Hey. What’s with the glum look? Try to focus.”

“Right,” Gon nodded, gaze following the pale hand as it lowered to Killua’s thigh. His throat shifted, subtly, as he swallowed, bringing his eyes up to meet a blue pair.

“Okay, so let’s brainstorm, here… Any idea what she--”

“Hey…”

“--Likes? Was she holding anything interesting, when you guys talked? Like a comic book? An animal keychain?”

“Killua.”

“Oh, there--she might like the zoo--everyone--”

_“Killua.”_

“Hm?” Killua stopped himself, “What?”

“I… I have an idea.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“…Why don’t we try pretending that I’m taking _you…_ out?”

Killua froze up--he wasn’t expecting that, and, it hit him hard. “...Me? I don’t--I don’t see how that’ll help, Gon.”

Gon shrugged sheepishly, “Well, like I was saying, things are easier with you. I could probably come up with ideas if I imagined _you_ were my date.”

He felt his heart drumming in his throat as he swallowed carefully--slowly. “That might be true. But, I don’t think Lani and I are the same. The things you’ll come up with for _me,_ might not work for _her.”_

Gon nodded, facade one of determination. “Yeah. But. Brainstorming _that way_ could spark some ideas that might be useful. We could branch off of them.”

“Uhm… Okay… If that’ll help you...” Killua nodded, understanding, though, he knew it would mess with his head. But, it was for Gon’s sake. If Gon needed this, Killua should give it to him. After all, he’d be able to work through the pain later, tonight, with Kurapika.

In realizing that, it, also, occurred to him that, if he kept this piece of information in the back of his mind, and used it as a safety blanket, he could allow himself to live in the moment without worries weighing him down.

He could give in to ‘tonight’ without stress breathing down his neck, without anxiety weaving his brows together.

Feeling something akin to rebirth, Killua pulled a sly grin, reaching forward and pushing Gon’s shoulder. “So. Let’s pretend, then. Where’re you gonna take me, Freecss?”

Gon chuckled, placing his hand on the cushion beside his thigh, twisting to face other. “Well, where would you want to be taken?”

“Nuh-uh,” Killua wagged his finger, “ _You’re_ taking _me_ out. That’s all on you. And, need I remind you, I’m high maintenance and fickle. Choose wisely.”

“You’re _not_ high maintenance.”

“You haven’t dated me, before. You don’t know that.”

“Hmm,” Gon hummed, smirking with amusement. “I wonder if that’s really true.”

“Get past the first date and you might find out~” Killua drawled, faking indifference just to tease him.

Gon let out a breathless chuckle, “Alright… Well. Hm. If I were going to take you out on a date…” Killua felt his heart flutter minutely, and forced it away. “I would want to do something that would make you laugh. Or, something that would make us both laugh. So, we could talk about it later. And, want to laugh together, again.”

“I’m listening.”

“A comedy show.”

“Sure, if you’re alright with me falling in love with the guy at the mic, making me laugh.”

“Good point. Bowling?”

“If you don’t mind shouting over pins getting knocked over. _I_ might mind, though.”

“Okay… How about ice skating? Since, it’s winter, and all. We could bond over being bad at it.”

Killua pictured them linking arms and falling. Cursing. Laughing.

He murmured; “What, do you want me to freeze to death?” The question hadn’t the slightest sarcastic tone to it. It was as if he were trying to convince himself that the idea was flawed.

“It’s romantic,” Gon returned the soft tone, “And, besides, I could just warm you up, after.”

“Slow down, Freecss,” Killua teased, “Who says I’d want to cuddle up to you on the first date?”

Something warm flickered in the depths of Gon’s gaze when it locked onto Killua’s. His voice came out teasingly, lifting a hand to poke Killua’s chest. “I didn’t say anything about cuddling. I meant, hot chocolate. Letting you wear my jacket.”

Killua quieted, unable to break eye contact. He watched that mysterious fire coil and flare within two pools of bronze. It entranced him, like a moth drawn to a flame.

“And, anyway, how would you know?” Gon continued, voice smooth like warm water, “You haven’t dated _me,_ before, either. You don’t know if you’d be dying to get close, or not.”

“Good point,” Killua uttered, “But, dying, or not, I might have morals. ‘Might resist you.”

 _“Might?”_ The corner of Gon’s mouth was pushing into his cheek, forming this alluring combination of smirking and smiling.

“Yeah,” Killua rasped, trying to refrain from succumbing to those tilted lips. “In… In situations like these, you don’t know. ‘Don’t know if your date’s gonna have morals or not. Gotta prepare yourself for the unknown.”

“Yeah, but, _you’re_ my date.”

“Hypothetically…” Killua forced himself to say.

“Mm. Hypothetically. But, even the hypothetical you would know if you have morals, or not.”

“That’s… true…”

“So. Do you?”

Killua tensed up, realizing that Gon was closer than he was a moment ago. He was confused by the tone possessing Gon’s voice, confused by him leaning forward. Confused by the direction this scenario was headed.

Even so, he managed to reply; “Yeah… I do. Like, not kissing on the first date… stuff like that. I guess.”

“But… being close wouldn’t necessarily mean going against your morals, right? That’s not fair, I think--to believe that it would.”

“What’d’you mean?”

“Like, what if…” Gon murmured, “What if you just let the moment take you? It wouldn’t make you any less of a… righteous person… to set your morals aside, right? You wouldn’t necessarily be going against them. Or, abandoning them. Just setting them aside.”

Killua gulped. “I think you’re… delving too deeply into this, Gon… Why’re you thinking about that?”

“Mm. I just want to. You brought it up and I’m curious about it. ‘Curious about your take on it. Since, you have them.”

“You make it sound like _you don’t.”_

“Mm. I believe in setting them aside. When it comes to chemistry.”

“Well,” Killua mused, voice soft and unsteady as Gon’s drifted around in his head, warm and rich, “Ev-everyone’s human, yanno… Sometimes… you do things because it feels right, rather than what you’re taught. I think you make morals and rules to protect yourself…”

He watched Gon’s eyes lower from his own, but, what he was staring at, he wasn’t sure. “And, you make them before knowing what’s going to happen--fearing the worst outcome… So… I don’t… Think it’s bad to adjust them--in the moment, or… like you said, set them aside.”

“So, Killua,” Gon started, voice low, “If… I… If I charmed you enough, d’you think you’d set them aside? On the first date?”

“If it felt right?”

“Mhm.”

Killua licked his lips nervously, “Are we still pretending, here?” _Are we still working on Lani? What does this have to do with picking out a place for a first date?_

Gon didn’t answer. Didn’t lift his gaze, either.

The next thing Killua knew, he was shivering, feeling something graze over his exposed knee. He didn’t need to look to know that it was Gon’s hand. That warm, feathery-soft touch, ghosting over his pale skin. Fingertips trailing down his shin and up, again. Was Gon aware he was doing this? Touching him so deliberately? Did he know he was extorting Killua’s heart to race?

His hand changed course, crawling along the black fabric of Killua’s shorts, until their fingers bumped into one another.

Killua’s hand moved on its own accord, a finger lifting and running over Gon’s nail. Gon reacted promptly, sliding his hand closer, fingertips gliding over soft skin, brushing knuckles and coming back down.

“You didn’t answer.”

Killua swallowed weakly, feeling his heart thumping away, “Oh. Uh.” He cleared his throat, “I think… I…” Gon’s fingers slid between his at a gradual pace, skin pulling against skin. “...I would.”

“So… So…” Gon interlaced their fingers, gently lifting their hands into the air, “After ice skating. Our first date. You’d come back here, to my place, and share a blanket… sit on this couch…”

“And, do what?” Killua asked, growing dizzy. His pulse was racing, his blood flowing, stomach churning and growing hot.

“I guess… like, I said… whatever felt right.”

What was Gon saying? What was he _doing?_ Was Killua allowed to enjoy this so much? To this extent?

Wouldn’t his suffering worsen if he let this go on? Let this daydreaming persist?

No. Didn’t matter. He had a ‘step two’. He’d get over the pain. He’d get over it. He’d get over picturing Gon and Lani skating and ending up on a couch together. He’d get over the jealousy slithering its way back into his chest--inch by inch. He’d get over this selfishness, birthing from his desire to reach out and pull Gon towards him.

He could enjoy this. Whatever it was. No matter how fleeting it may prove. He could partake in this little act, feel something--share something with Gon, even if it was all pretend.

He let out a chuckle of velvet, sounding much more put together than he truly was, “What, like watch movies? Light a fire?”

“If that’s what felt right.”

“I think it would feel _very right._ Make you keep your distance. Force you to watch a shitty movie.” He smirked, pulling on their hands. “So, what else would we do? If you could woo me and get me back here. And, if you say _‘whatever felt right’,_ again, I’ll suffocate you.”

Gon snorted, pulling Killua’s hand back towards him, “Suffocate me with what?”

“A pillow. Duh.”

A smirk. “Did you even look around--I don’t have couch pillows.”

Killua glanced around quickly, not wanting to be away from Gon’s gaze for too long. He peered back at the raven and stuck his nose in the air aloofly, “You should rethink that life decision, Gon.”

“Life decision? What’re you talking about?”

“Not having couch pillows.”

“Why’s that?”

Killua’s lips tilted into a lopsided smile, “What if, after the rink, I wanna lay down? What if I’m _exhausted?”_

Gon reached forward and grabbed Killua’s free hand, lacing their fingers together without a second thought or moment of hesitance. He tugged it over so both pairs of hands were perfectly parallel. “Then, you can lay on _me.”_

Killua stiffened at the bold response. He almost wanted to quit the charade and ask Gon why he was so open to saying this to another guy--to his childhood friend? But, he didn’t. He wanted to pretend Gon was as bent as he was.

That, Gon liked him.

“What if I didn’t want to?” Killua retorted jokingly.

He hadn’t seen Gon’s expression look more mysterious or determined, in his life. Those eyes focused on him--locked on him. Bronze irises, rich with specks of gold, flickering and flaring. His smirking lips parted, revealing a row of white teeth, tongue lifting to swipe across them.

“Wouldn’t you want to, though?” Gon replied, words more breath than voice.

Killua didn’t mean to bite his bottom lip, but, Gon’s gaze was searing him. Marring every bit of skin that faced it. “Seems like you want me to say yes, Freecss.”

“The hypothetical me does,” Gon whispered, gradually reeling Killua closer to him.

The spinning heat, low in his abdomen was impossible for Killua to ignore, at this point, as he found his bottom being lifted from the cushion. Found his knee grating against the fabric. Toes twisting against the carpet. Nose drawing closer and closer to Gon’s.

“The hypothetical me would really want you to.”

“To lay on you?”

Gon simply nodded, releasing Killua's hands, causing him to fall forward, holding himself up with a hand on Gon’s thigh, the other gripping the soft fabric of the cushion. Killua drew in a nervous breath, eyes searching all over Gon’s tanned face.

“Gon, what're--” Killua rasped, face flushing, “What're you say--” he cut himself off, he didn't care. That wasn't what he wanted to know.

“Feels right, doesn't it?” Gon asked genuinely, voice quiet, careful. “Being this close?”

Killua gave a weak nod, admitting; “It… yeah, it… does…” He bit his bottom lip when Gon’s hand began to slither up his wrist, fingers dipping underneath the hem of his sleeve.

Killua's sock slipped against the carpet, knee giving out at the way his stomach was twisting. He caught himself as soon as it happened, however, he’d lessened the distance between them.

“You can sit. On me. If you want.” Gon sounded tense, words barely escaping unmoving lips.

Blue eyes dropped to a jean clad lap. If his mind was working, wasn’t stirring itself into a blurred mess, what would it think? Would it stop him? Would it let him have this? He didn’t know.

He merely watched his limbs work, themselves.

“Is this what the hypothetical you would want?” Killua chuckled breathlessly, though, the question was rather redundant--he wouldn’t have suggested it if that weren’t the case.

Gon looked up at the man, now, straddling his thighs, hands lifelessly resting at his sides. They were unlike Killua’s, which were trembling as if the temperature had plummeted, clutching black fabric.

“Yeah, he would,” Gon replied distractedly.

Killua lowered his gaze to Gon’s chest, watching it rise and sink under his green shirt. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, and, he wondered if Gon’s was acting the same. Drumming to an off-beat, impossibly rushed rhythm.

“Gon…” he whispered, his peripheral catching sight of a hand sliding over his knee. “What do…”

“Yeah?”

“What do _you_ want?”

“Me?”

“Mm… You. _Right now.”_

“I want…”

Killua felt another hand on him, gliding up his arm, skimming over his sleeve.

“What?” Killua breathed, head bowing, bangs brushing against the raven’s forehead.

Fingertips graced his jaw.

Gon shifted.

“I want it to feel _right.”_

Before Killua could utter another word, tan lips seized his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is through. My heart was beating too fast, writing this. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! I really, really appreciate the comments!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proceed with caution~

He could have this.

He could have this.

_He could have this._

Gon’s lips.

Gon.

He could have Gon’s mouth pressed against his. Head tilting to gain better access. He could have Gon’s hands pulling away and swooping to hold him by the small of his back. He could have Gon pulling back minutely before diving back in with more force, over, and over, and over, and _over, again._

He could have this. He had a safety blanket. He’d recover. He didn’t want to be confused. Didn’t want to worry about the details. He wanted to take advantage of this moment and _live in it._

He didn’t care how hard he’d crash, tonight, so long as, he could get high off of this raven-haired man, who clutched his sides insistently, pulling him down--pulling him _closer._

Black became the color of the canvas overtaking his sight, both eyes clenching shut, brows quivering as if he’d burst into tears. He relied on his remaining senses--no matter how awry they were rapidly becoming. He wanted to _feel._ Mind set solely on that. And, in all the places their bodies met--Killua melted. He succumbed to the heat radiating from beneath him, zapping and stunning him as if the raven were made of lightning.

He was absolutely frenzied, feeling Gon pull at his bottom lip with two rows of teeth. He forced himself to clutch onto Gon’s shoulders, broad and warm, just so he wouldn’t slip away.

He couldn’t believe what was happening. That it was real. That Gon was kissing him, swiping his tongue against his lips--insistently begging for permission.

He should… He should part his lips. Let Gon in. Let Gon taste him.

The moment he weakened, allowing Gon’s tongue to slide through and touch his, Killua shuddered and pushed forward. Just the notion of their tongues meeting had Killua feeling as if a dam had broken deep within him. That this was reality and he, no longer, had to hide his craving for Gon.

Everything felt so right. Everything felt so natural. This was what he wanted. What he’d always wanted.

He curled his fingers, clawing at Gon’s shirt, mouth open against the other’s. Gon replied with just as much vigor, hands sliding up Killua’s back, grasping the cool fabric of his windbreaker, tugging as if intending to rip it down the middle.

Gon groaned into Killua’s mouth, their tongues slipping against each other, hot and wet. Their saliva collecting and mixing--their lips slicking and sliding. Killua responded with a mewl of his own, thighs trembling against Gon’s.

Tan hands, quivering to the point of no return, aching to grab and grope, snaked to Killua’s front. They found a zipper and yanked it down, exposing a tank top, a tense neck and pale collarbones.

Gon pulled away and sent a lick from the bottom of Killua’s chin to his lips. He took a swollen, bottom lip into his mouth and sucked on it, before letting it snap back into place.

Killua sighed shallowly, head tilting back, allowing the man to venture elsewhere. He didn’t care where, as long as those lips, bruised and wet, were still on him.

Gon caught on and shifted, sliding Killua closer to him, arms snaking around to hug him close. He trailed kisses along the man’s jaw, mouth working slowly, yet, hurriedly, at the same time.

Dizzy and lightheaded, Killua felt as if he were falling. As if he were drifting away into this unbelievably hot, glowing abyss, birthing at his core. Each kiss, each suck and lick, furthered his descent bit by bit, drawing, from his lips, a sound he didn’t quite recognize.

“...Gon… Oh--”

“Killua--” Gon murmured against hot skin.

“Mhnnhh?”

“Do you ever think about this? About us being like this?”

Killua swallowed, eyes remaining closed. He exhaled--Gon’s lips at his neck. “I… I want to… to lie. And, say. Say, ‘no’.”

Gon gave the length of Killua’s throat one long, burning hot, painfully slow lick before replying. “Don’t. Tell me the truth...”

Killua managed to snort amidst his delirium, “I--I pretty much--did. W-what, d’you want a… a proper _declaration,_ Freecss?”

 _“Yes…”_ Gon groaned before his lips latched onto Killua’s neck.

A shameless hiss left Killua’s mouth, responding more to Gon’s rugged, breathy voice, than the mouth sucking on his throat. Killua nodded frantically, “Yes. Shit--yes. I do. I do.”

It was unnerving, confessing such a large secret to the very person it concerned. But, he didn’t want to lie, anymore. He didn’t have the mental strength to. “I think about this--a lot...”

Gon lowered his mouth, tongue coming out to twist and turn all over the reddening skin before him. He coated it with his saliva whilst his hands came up to grip Killua’s shoulders from behind.

“Even…” he breathed, “Even when you’re with girls?”

Killua’s brows curved with confusion. “Girls? Haa--” Gon bit him. He cringed. “Wh-what girls?”

“The girls you _bragged_ about.” Gon’s hands were working Killua’s windbreaker off of his shoulders, slipping them down compliant arms. And, that agonizingly sinful tongue was on him, again, under his chin, down his throat, over his Adam’s apple.

“--Oh, back at… at…”

“Mhmmm…” Gon hummed, throwing the jacket to the floor, mouth dancing over Killua’s prominent collarbones. He sounded irritable. He sounded rigid.

“Ah--” Killua rasped, back arching, “Th-that was a… a lie. I don’t… I don’t talk to any girls.” He shivered, teeth scraping along the bone, “Not like that.”

“...Does that mean…”

“...What?”

“...That you're not… attracted to women?”

Killua’s heart clenched, sending a spike of disquietness through his body. Though, his actions were _screaming_ the answer for him, he still felt anxious about verbally coming out to Gon. He still possessed the fear of rejection--that, maybe… maybe Gon was merely acting on impulse, getting some form of frustration out, relating with Killua--who he assumed was straight, as well.

“Jeez,” Killua rasped, Gon’s hands sliding down his sides to grip his hips tightly. “What’s with all the questions? I-If anyone… should be fessing up, here. It should be-- _you.”_

“Why’s that?” Gon murmured, lifting his head to kiss along Killua’s jawline, another time.

“Be--cause. We-- we were s’posed to talk about--about that girl--about your date,” Killua shuddered, again, stomach still scorching, regardless of him bringing up the last thing he wanted to speak about.

“I don't want to talk about it, right now.”

“Gon, but. You--”

“--Killua,” Gon whispered, sounding far more even and level-headed than Killua could’ve ever hoped to be, in this moment. Yet, at the same time, he sounded lost, entranced--as if he were breaking. _“I want you.”_

Those words cut straight through the fog filling Killua’s head. They echoed thunderously against the walls of his mind, stilling him. Seizing him.

And, in that brief moment, he felt _everything._ He felt the hot, numbing vibrations of nervousness and excitement, ooze over every inch of his skin. Felt the million tappings of butterfly wings against the lining of his stomach. Felt his heart flutter and swoop.

And, though he wanted to smile, he presented a glare, instead, face flushing. “Don’t… don’t say shit just to say it, Gon.” _Do you mean it?_

“I’m not.” His hands lowered to Killua’s ass, “I want you.” He pulled, grinding the other man against his lap.

Killua bit his lip, letting it tremble between white teeth. Forcing down a moan that would’ve proved to embarrass him, he swallowed thickly. “No, you--no, you don’t. Shut up.”

Gon grunted sensually, equally hypnotized by the friction. He gave an amused smirk, “No. I want you, _Killua.”_

As if to emphasize the calling of his name, Killua was ground against the raven’s lap a second time, coercing his back to arch, his heart to race, and his hands to claw. Though, he was utterly flustered by Gon’s words, he couldn’t help the way his body reacted to the man’s actions. Couldn’t suppress his desire to cling to him in any way possible. He bowed his head and dove in for a kiss.

It was messier, this time. Killua’s hips, moving on their own. Gon’s hands, squeezing demandingly.

“God--” Killua, eventually, pulled away panting, pressing his forehead against Gon’s, eyelids finally parting to rest at half-mast. They locked gazes, azure orbs scanning all over dazed, hazy brown eyes. Eyes that peered back up at him, hungrily. That had the heat in his core livening. That forced away any, and all, worries dwelling in the back of his mind.

 _“Fine.”_ He spoke breathlessly--boldly, running his ass over the obvious erection in Gon’s lap. “‘Wanna just forget why I came here--in the first place?” He stifled a mewl, lips tilting. “You _want_ me, _Freecss?”_

Gon squeezed the other man, moaning under his breath at the cheeky way Killua was smirking at him. “Yes. Killua. _Yes.”_

“Bad?”

“Mmmmmm. Bad.”

Killua’s smirk sat perfectly in place--nearly permanent. He didn’t quite believe the man beneath him, but, he did know one thing: _he was loving this._

Lie, or not, he was hearing what he’d always wanted. What he’d dreamt of hearing. He’d imagined, many times before, what Gon would sound like, submitting to his unquenchable desires, surrendering to them-- _to him._

However, the voice in his head wasn’t nearly as breathtaking as this. No. It didn’t even compare.

“Well,” he tugged on Gon’s shirt playfully, “What d’you want from me, huh?”

Gon’s hands, large and rough, ascended, slipping underneath thin, pale cloth. He smiled at the sharp intake of breath this action evoked. Hands gliding all over impossibly smooth skin, he tilted his head and held Killua’s gaze. “Whatever you’ll give me.”

Killua’s tongue darted out to lick the corner of his lips, eyes unblinking and focused. He wanted to be bold. He wanted the heat to possess him--truly, like it had, to Gon. And, if Gon wanted it--him--whatever--

He didn’t want anything else.

“What if…” Killua watched Gon’s stare stray away from his eyes and veer down to his mouth. He lowered his right hand, the tips of his index and middle fingers skating down Gon’s collar bone, down the length of a hard pec, “Gon,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, a smirk slanting his lips, “What if I wanted to give you _everything?”_

For the first time, since they began, Gon was the one to bite his lip. It was a brief act, however, as he soon lifted and stole a kiss, one that was open-mouthed and all tongue. When he withdrew, he whispered against those red lips--against that panting mouth, “Then, I _want_ everything.”

 _“Gon--”_ Killua let out, name coming out a mixture of a breathless moan and a careful warning.

“What? ‘Still don’t believe me?” Gon was laughing softly--smirking, now, hands lowering and curling around the bottom hem of Killua’s tank.

Killua lifted his arms as his shirt lifted off of him, sliding off of and revealing his pale, yet rosy, skin, stretched over sculpted, lean muscle. When his arms came down, they immediately wrapped around Gon’s neck, fingers disappearing into black tresses. Blue eyes ignoring the way brown ones gawked.

“I believe you,” he answered, bare skin sensitive to the combination of hot hands and the cool air wafting throughout the room. “But, I hope you understand what you’re agreeing to.”

“Of course, I do,” Gon replied with a hot chuckle, hands gently pulling Killua away.

“You do…?” Killua’s arms unwound themselves, hands coming to grip the raven’s shoulders, again. He leaned back, slightly, releasing a trembling sigh as he watched Gon’s right hand slither down his torso.

“Mhmm…”

Once his palm met a row of abs, Gon’s eyes flicked upwards, peering at a faintly flushed face, “You--wanting you is the only thing I really understand, right now.”

Killua wanted to blush at the remark, but, hadn’t the time as a cold breeze hit him right where it hurt. He glanced down and his throat shifted, eyes landing on, not only Gon’s hand, stretching the hem of his shorts, but, _himself--_ standing tall, erect and exposed.

The tip glistened faintly, and, Gon snorted.

Killua glared at him, absolutely abashed. “What’s so funny.”

“Nothing,” Gon teased, hand going straight for Killua’s base, wrapping around it snugly. “I was gonna ask if you wanted me, too, but... ‘T’s kinda obvious, yeah?”

“Shut up--” Killua gasped, grip on Gon tightening as that hand lifted on his member. He bit down on the fat of his bottom lip, watching Gon squeeze the head, provoking more pre-cum to seep out. It was unbearably nerve wracking to be showing the raven such a personal part of himself--but, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt right. It felt as if this was the hundredth time he’d bared for Gon.

Gon seemed to think so, as well, keeping embarrassing comments to himself and just gazing with  awe sparkling on the surface of his irises. Slowly, he slid his hand down and slid it back up, testing the waters. His palm tugged on the pale skin of Killua’s erection as he lifted and lowered, coercing the man to harden even further beneath his touch.

“Hey, Killua…” Gon whispered, “If I go faster, will you moan for me?”

Killua swallowed thickly, fingers trembling around thick shoulders. Azure eyes lifted to view the other man, whose own were focused elsewhere. With difficulty, he bit out; “I--I don’t moan.”

He didn’t. Not really. After so many years of being a hormonal teenager in a full house, he’d learned to slip away silently, never uttering a sound in attempts to avoid unwanted attention.

“But, Killua,” Gon called, breath hot, voice distracted and filled with yearning intonations. His pace was gradually quickening, hand moving in a fluid, attentive manner. “I _really_ want you to.”

“Gon--” Killua hissed out of pleasure, that hand twisting around him, pulling on him in the best of ways, “I--don’t…”

Gon licked his lips, eyes enthused by a peculiar thought gracing his mind; “I bet you sound pretty, though.”

“I don’t care,” Killua panted, head tilting back, nose pointed to the ceiling as Gon sped up.

Being rough wasn’t the goal. Hastiness--out of the question. Gon wanted to push Killua to the edge. Not slow, at all, nor, too fast. _Just right._ He wanted his hand to acquire and put forth the type of swiftness that would drive Killua to beg for more.  

He wanted Killua to come undone, right before him.

“‘Thought you wanted to give me _everything?”_ Gon teased, leaning in, puffs of hot breath coming out to run over Killua’s chest. An absentminded sigh greeted his ears the moment his tongue met a hard bud.

“I--I meant--” Killua managed, between heavy pants, body cringing at the same time his back arched, “I meant _sex,_ Gon--”

The word had either man’s stomachs twisting into white-hot knots.

A shared understanding; sex was inevitable, at this point. But, the utterance realized it. It was no longer a mere assumption. It wasn’t a wish, a hope, or a desire-- _it was real._

Gon’s response didn’t come in the form of words. He ran his tongue all over Killua’s nipple--hot, dripping, the tip tracing around the bud--flicking all over it. His hand gripped Killua needingly,  jerking up and down--base to head and back, again.

It was annoying, Killua mulled, how everything in the world seemed to work against him. He didn’t moan. He’d never moaned, in his life.

But, he felt his jaw drop, watched his eyes shut, and heard it. Heard this breathless, soft-toned call stretch from his throat into the air. It was a true moan--in every sense of the word. Lost in a flurry of heat, needy and shameless.

The growl Gon replied with was instantaneous. Head lifting, mouth and tongue attacking Killua’s neck instead. The sound had his blood crooning, boiling, rushing--hastening his movements.

With the speed of Gon’s hand curled around his cock spurring and that hot wetness lathering his throat, stimulating its thin, sensitive skin, Killua fell prey to stunning pleasure. His entire body was cringing, singing and tingling. He felt _Gon_ , and Gon--only.

His hands were numb, curled around Gon so tightly. His throat vibrated with each moan that slipped through never-closing lips. His thighs twitched around the other man’s, and, several times, he felt himself teeter back, only to have Gon’s free arm retrieve him, slung around his waist, hand at the base of his back.

“F… Fuck, Gon,” Killua wept, brows trembling, “It's so...”

Gon hummed lowly, stomach flipping as Killua’s hips began to twitch, unintentionally bucking into his hand. His hand was sliding along Killua’s cock, now. Pre-cum unapologetically collecting in his palm each time he brushed over the swollen head.

Gon pulled away from Killua’s neck, eyeing a bruise he knew wouldn’t fade easily. He ran the flat of his tongue up the man’s throat, pumping him all the while--never stopping. Wrist rolling, hand twisting around the throbbing length.

“I like when you talk, Killua,” Gon stated breathily before biting Killua’s chin. “You’re close. I can tell.”

Killua moaned at the slight pain as it mixed with and dissipated within the pleasure pooling in his core. “Y-yeah. Close, don’t-- don’t--”

“I won’t,” Gon replied dazedly, half-mast eyes watching Killua’s bruised lips quiver above him, head still, hopelessly, tipped back. He pulled away and watched the man’s throat clench and shift with every moan and swallow.

“Gon--I--” Killua whimpered, hands leaving Gon’s body to clutch onto the cotton fabric of his shirt as if pulling on reins. His head fell forward, face pink, lips dry. 

Gon swooped in and took Killua’s lips into a frantic kiss. As the cock in his hands twitched and pulsed, their tongues met and twirled, drool sliding down their chins. Killua’s moaning flooded into Gon’s mouth, louder than before. Just knowing it was _Gon’s_ hand on him, _Gon’s_ mouth collecting each of his cries, had that heat in his abdomen swirling with life. He wanted this--he wanted this. And, he wanted _more._

Killua tensed up, orgasm catching him by surprise--too caught up in his thoughts of the raven-haired man. It overtook each of his senses, paralyzing him atop Gon as his cum shot out in pulses--the first; long, the following; shorter. It was warm and thick, some landing on his chest and stomach, the majority spilling all over Gon’s hand as it pumped him through it.

Slowing to a stop, Gon watched the man pant before him, breaths weak and shallow, member twitching every now and then. Killua was stolen from his post-orgasm daze of bright white and untouchable heat, when Gon’s hand left him and lifted.

He cracked an eye open, catching Gon’s observant, hazy gaze lingering all over his hand, slick with semen. When his lips parted, fingers drawing closer to them, Killua tugged on the man’s shirt.

“Wha--”

“No.”

Gon blinked, locking eyes, “I just wanna taste. I’ve always wanted to know what you tasted like.”

Killua felt his heart flutter. The fantasy was crude, but, undeniably relatable. “Al--always?” He stammered before shaking his head, “No. I don’t care. Don’t.”

Gon lowered his hand, cocking a brow, “Killua.”

“If you do that, you can forget about kissing me for the rest of the night.” He really didn’t want to taste it--he wanted to taste Gon when they kissed. Gon, only.

Gon’s lips curled into a playful smirk, “Maybe another time, then.”

Killua pushed forward and kissed the man, pulling away with Gon’s bottom lip slipping from between his. “Yeah, another time, Freecss.”

Gon snorted, moving his hands away from Killua and pulling his shirt off in one swift go. The garment was used as a rag, wiping a tan hand clean as well as a pale torso. Throwing it to the floor, Gon looked back at the man on his lap, and stilled with confusion.

Killua was transfixed, eyes practically bulging, blue set on the ridges and cliffs of Gon’s torso. Killua had a superb imagination--he’d boast about it without a second thought. But, the image he’d conjured up of Gon shirtless paled in comparison to the glowing, tan body before him, bare and hot--sculpted like a masterpiece.

He wanted to lick that hard chest. Wanted to count each ab with his lips. He… he…

“C’mon.” Killua said raspily before clearing his throat, hands seizing Gon’s shoulders and tugging. “You wanna, right? Wanna?”

Gon’s hands came to Killua’s lower back, laughing huskily at the impatient guise facing him. “You’re getting hard, again, Killua.”

It was true, but, Killua didn’t care.

“That’s good, right? C’mon.”

“Won’t you be sensitive?”

Killua finally tore his eyes away from Gon’s muscles and stared at the man with adamance. “So. Isn’t that good? I’ll be _writhing_ for you. ‘Sn’t that what you want? Don’t you wanna come, too?”

Gon let his hands travel downward, gripping Killua’s ass and eliciting a sharp gasp. “You’re never this eager.”

The statement surprised Killua, realizing how he must be sounding. He’d never begged anyone for anything, before, neither had he ever had sex. In all honesty, he didn’t know if he was this enthusiastic and needy when turned on to such an extent.

Maybe, it was the heat of his orgasm, lingering on the edges of his weakening sanity... Or, maybe, it was the simple concept that Gon had touched him with hunger and want, and, wantonly gazed at him with these feats, driving him to act this way….

It was both, he quickly decided, along with the fact that Gon was so fucking attractive, it hurt to look at him.

Killua offered a slanted smile, eyes glossed over with sultriness, tone suggestive, “You’ve never slept with me, before. You don’t know that.”

Gon groaned, leaning in and biting Killua’s chin, again. Lips against the, now, red skin, he murmured; “You make me wanna say _really_ dirty things, Killua…”

Killua’s thighs shuddered at that, liquid fire dousing the depths of his core, all over again, as he imagined all the sinful possibilities. All uttered in Gon’s smooth voice. He slid his hands down to two shoulder blades and curled his fingers, dragging his nails back up, lighting tan skin on fire.

“Don’t say them. _Do_ them to me. Tonight.”

“Just tonight?” Gon asked quietly, before and after kissing Killua’s jaw.

Killua wanted to sob; _“No. Every night. Every night, Gon.”_ But, even his flustered mind knew it wasn’t realistic. Tonight was _the night._ Tonight was his _only night._

“‘Won’t promise anything ‘til I see what you got, Freecss,” Killua teased. He leaned in and pulled on the raven’s ear lobe with his teeth. “Don’t disappoint me.”

 

\---

He was dropped onto the bed, back greeted by cool, soon-to-be damp, bed sheets. Mouths were nearly inseparable. Hands were everywhere; on Gon, on himself, in hair, trailing down abs, pulling down his shorts.

“You, too.” Came from Killua’s panting mouth, bare legs parting as Gon returned to slide between them. Tan lips came down to kiss all over a pale chest. Teeth joined in and bit, forcing the middle of Killua’s back to lift from the mattress, a hiss slithering out his throat. “D-dammit, Gon--”

“Sorry.”

Gon didn’t sound sorry. Not with that low, velvety chuckle dripping from his lips. He hardly sounded like himself--but, maybe, Killua pondered blearily, maybe, Gon changed during sex, too. While Killua proved needy and excited, Gon was more controlled, oozing with diligent dominance.

Even. Attentive. Hungry.

“Are you gonna--I wanna see.”

“In a bit,” Gon grunted, mouth latched onto the side of Killua’s neck, hand gliding down Killua’s contracting stomach to his erection. He pulled on it teasingly with the tips of his fingers, stroking him, relishing in the shivering beneath him. “‘Wanna focus on you, first.”

Killua found himself sighing--just barely. Stomach flitting and chest thumping. He was completely naked, knees hugging Gon’s waist, arms wrapped around the man’s neck. He was nude and should’ve felt embarrassed, but, his mind wouldn’t let him. His brain wasn’t processing anything other than the way Gon felt against him.

“Fuck, Gon,” Killua choked out, Gon travelling down his body, hands gripping his sides roughly, tongue painting him with saliva. He almost hated how good it felt, because it was distracting. He didn’t want to waste time. He wanted Gon and everything the man had to offer.

It didn’t take him long to realize Gon was feeling the same way, as he found himself being tugged down. Two large hands spreading his thighs further.

In a fleeting thought, he assumed Gon was going to take him into his mouth. However, the sensation of dripping heat swiping along where he was split, corrected him.

“Oh… oh,” Killua managed a slurred mutter, as Gon’s hands came to hold the underneath of his ass, lifting it off the bed just enough to taste his rim and everything else. It was strange--a mouth ‘down there’; not a single one of his late night fantasies had ever consisted of Gon doing this. He never knew he wanted it--didn’t know how bad _he needed it._

It was personal and gross and wet and intimate. It had him panting, hands curling around the sheets, cock flat against his stomach, leaking onto his skin.

Gon’s tongue was teasing and skillful. Sometimes; flat and lathering. Other times; precise and targeting. The touch was both, enough and not. Keeping him on the edge, unsure of whether he’d teeter to safety or tip and plummet.

“Shit, Gon,” Killua finally gasped, eyes wearily peering at the ceiling of the dark room, faintly alit by the hallway light creeping under the threshold. “How--how do you know…” he swallowed, “How to do all this stuff?”

“I don’t, really.” Gon pulled away and lifted onto his knees, sat on his calves. He still donned jeans, button undone and hanging low on his hips. They were fine, before, but, now, they were annoyingly tight. He stuck his index and middle finger into his mouth and swirled around them with an exhausted tongue.

Retracting, he murmured; “I just… know what I want to do to you…” The tip of his index pressed against Killua’s rim. “I do what feels right… Like following instincts.”

Killua bit his lip at an incredibly uncomfortable intrusion, Gon’s finger slowly worming its way inside him. “I-Instinct, huh?” He grunted, trying to avert his attention elsewhere. “‘T’s weird, right?” Killua asked, referring to the raven’s current actions.

Gon shook his head, watching his finger disappear down to the knuckle. “Not weird,” he whispered, licking his lips, pulling the digit out at the same slow pace. “‘Feels right.”

Killua watched the man, focused and enraptured. His heart was pounding, he’d just noticed, and, he realized it wasn’t painful or winding like it usually was. It was an excited kind of rhythm--a swooning, swooping, climbing-and-diving kind of beat.

He felt… in love.

And, even more so, feeling Gon’s finger working him, slowly and surely--creating an entirely new memory he’d have cemented in his head for the rest of his life.

Killua let out a breath, the pace picking up, “That’s… good. That’s…”

An absentminded smile curved Gon’s lips, “It’s really hot…”

“Yeah, it is,” Killua agreed in a sigh, eyes falling closed as he grew more and more accustomed to the feeling of Gon inside him.

Leaning forward, Gon snorted, placing a hand on the bed beside Killua’s hip. “I meant, it’s hot _inside_ you.”

Killua’s brows furrowed minutely. “Oh. Well…”

“But, I think it is, too,” Gon murmured, voice ghosting over the other man’s body, compelling him to shiver. “‘Gonna put another one… Wanna go faster…”

Killua didn’t reply, instead, he braced himself. It was kind of exciting--the thought of a second finger. Experiencing something new, thriving in a different form of pleasure. With Gon. Thinking about it had him welcoming Gon’s middle finger, though, he’d underestimated the burn that would follow.

As both fingers pushed into him, Killua grit his teeth. He couldn’t describe it, really. His rim stung where it was stretched, but, it didn’t _hurt._ He should’ve found pain in that striking zap of fire, but, he found his toes curling, instead. It was as if the pain merely served as additional fuel, alighting the thirsty inferno in his gut.

“Faster?” Gon asked eagerly. His breath was shallow, coming out in long pants. “Can I?”

“S-sure, fuck, I don’t care,” Killua trembled.

Gon let a breathy groan escape him, and did just that. His fingers, slick with saliva, pulled out of that burning heat before thrusting back in.

“Ow--shit,” Killua moaned, “Keep going.”

Gon wanted to laugh at how Killua complained and encouraged, all in the same breath, but couldn’t find it in him to exert such a noise. His heart was pounding, watching Killua wince and relax, moan and shiver, tense up and arch.

Over time, his fingers were moving quickly, coursing in and out of Killua’s tightness without the slightest hesitance, brushing against the man’s prostate repeatedly. And, over time, grunts had become full-blown moans, filling the room and blanketing them, both.

Killua’s head was tipped back, white bangs fluttering to the sheets, chin pointed to the ceiling. He was pulsing around Gon’s fingers, deep and low and hot. His chest was heaving at the pleasure, mouth hung open to dry while moans toppled out, inviting more pleasure to cocoon him, in a freeing fashion.

“That’s--Gon, it feels so. _God._ I.” Finishing a mere sentence was the last thing Killua’s brain wanted to do. His mind wanted to swirl in pleasure and want, it didn’t want to think unless it was picturing Gon behind him. “Fuck, fuck--”

“Killua,” Gon sounded out of breath, contradictory to the fact that he wasn’t. It was the sight of this man, before him, throwing him off-kilter. Killua was writhing, tossing his head left and right, pale abs flexing and relaxing. He felt his stomach flip, felt that burning, deep within, climb and climb until his mind was so charred, he couldn’t think straight.

“Killua, I--let’s--” he grunted eagerly, crumbling at how Killua’s hips bucked against his hand. “I want you--”

“Yes, yeah!” Killua nodded, lowering his head and watching Gon’s arm dance back and forth. He watched it drive into him and felt the pleasure follow closely behind, each time. It was baffling how much better it felt to see the act--to _feel--_ while he was--to-- Oh, he couldn’t think. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t think!

“Gon, c’mon--That’s enough. I’m gonna--before we even. Shit, shit, shit--”

Gon pulled his fingers out with shameless impatience, pushing away from the man.

Killua was still in a state of frenzy, sweating and boiling. Gon not being inside him was throwing his body through a loop. It was tingling and humming, begging for Gon to return, begging to be full, again.

“Grab the--there’re condoms in the drawer, over there,” Gon grunted, fumbling with his jeans.

Killua nodded and reached for the bedside table before something cold tugged in the back of his mind. Sliding the drawer open, he swallowed, “Why do you--”

“Leorio gave me them,” Gon quickly explained amidst the sound of his jeans hitting the carpeted floor. “‘Said he wants me to be a--a ‘responsible, big boy’, one day--c’mon, c’mon.”

Killua’s minor anxiety quelled the moment he noticed the box was still unopened. He tore the cardboard hastily and grabbed a single condom, letting the box fall to the floor. Whipping back around, he froze.

Gon was leaning forward, palms on either side of Killua’s hips, peering at him with unadulterated lust. But, it wasn’t the fog in Gon’s eyes making his stomach flip, it was the fact that Gon was naked, and toned--thicker and bigger than he’d predicted-- he forced himself to look at the man’s face.

“H-Here,” he uttered, handing the condom over.

Gon’s hands were trembling, possessed by the tension between them, and he fought to be as swift as possible, ripping the thing open. After sliding the rubber on, he looked at the man beneath him.

“How do you--like this?”

“No,” Killua replied quickly, twisting around, “‘Wanna do it this way. ‘Want you to be rough.” He wasn’t lying, and, after a moment, he thanked his desperately lustful mind; if they proceeded with missionary, recovery would be well out the window.

“Okay, either way,” Gon replied, hands curling around Killua’s firm hips, lifting the man to pose on all fours. He gripped himself at the base and pressed his swollen tip against Killua’s rim.

Killua held his breath, hands tightening around the sheets as the head slid into him. “Fuck, fuck--” he cursed, brows arched in pain. It burned; a ring of heat encircling the protrusion. But, it wasn’t unbearable--the anticipation of the full length inside him hurt worse than the stretching did. “‘Kay, go, go, I wanna--”

“--Y-yeah,” Gon breathed, pushing forward. He let out a shuddering sigh when he was fully sheathed. “You’re--God, you’re tight, Killua.”

Not even the pain of being entered could suppress the mewl slipping from Killua’s mouth, “Jeez, don’t talk dirty, Gon, I’m already--”

“I’m not. It’s just--shit, you feel so--” Gon pulled out carefully, feeling his heart leap at the intense mix of pleasure and torture of having to go slow.

Killua groaned, “F… fuck, when did _you_ start cussing--” He winced when Gon pushed back in.

“--’Never had a reason to, before. But, Killua, this is--you’re--” Gon could hardly speak, the tightness clenching down on his cock was too much for him to handle. Killua’s walls pulled at him snugly--teasingly. It was nearly unfair.

He let out a light groan, sliding back in. And, this time, Killua didn’t tense up. No, in fact, Killua was suffering through the same torment. Gon was steadily filling him up and leaving him empty--an indescribable sensation that nearly finished him, right then and there, but, it wasn’t enough. He wanted the blinding pleasure. He wanted the sweat and the crying and the moaning. He didn’t want to wait, anymore.

He allowed three more practice thrusts before ducking his head, “Okay--okay, fuck me, it doesn’t matter. Go, go, go.”

“You sure?” Gon bit out, though his pace was already expediting.

“You’re already--” Killua moaned at the friction deep within, “Yeah--yeah, that’s…”

It picked up and it picked up and it picked up.

He almost didn’t even remember ever being in pain. The euphoria that came with every shove and pull of Gon’s cock was disarraying; wiping his mind clean of anything irrelevant to inexpressible pleasure.

Gon’s large hands tightened around him, yanking him back as he thrusted forward at a consistently quick pace. It was fast and whole, deep and hollowing. It had Killua’s arms shaking, threatening to give out, had his back arching, his throat burning as he vomited moans of pleasure, one after another.

In and out, tugging and stretching. It was mindblowing. Killua felt tears collect on his lashes, blue eyes rolling behind closed lids. Gon coursing in and out of him, thick and hard, was immobilizing--mentally and physically. He could only focus on that numbing pleasure being pounded into him, skin-on-skin smacking only intensifying it.

What threw him even further over the edge was the fact that Gon was fucking into him like he’d die if he didn’t. Gon wanted it just as bad--hammering into him like he’d wanted Killua all his life--like he’d never gone a day without the guy on his mind.

“Gon!” Killua wept, feeling that deep, golden throbbing in his gut spike immensely--head hitting his prostate with desperate force. “--Fuck, I--”

“You have _such_ a dirty mouth,” Gon groaned, cringing at Killua’s sinful tongue. “‘Drives me _crazy.”_

“Fuck, _you’re_ driving _me--_ ” Killua grit his teeth, then, tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth as his prostate was struck several times in a row. On the final hit, his arms gave out, face falling to smear against the sheets.

“Don’t do _that,”_ Gon let out a husky sob, entranced by the new positioning--Killua’s profile twisted with pleasure, back toned and arched, ass up to greet him.

“Didn’t--didn’t mean to,” Killua slurred, drooling onto the fabric rubbing against his cheek. He felt one of Gon’s hands wrap around his left shoulder, right hand still clutching his hip. Gon leaned over him, bucking his hips into his ass the entire time.

“Yeah, yeah,” Killua let out, losing himself to the ecstasy of Gon driving his cock even deeper, “Like that--Gon, do it like that. I like that.”

“Good,” Gon breathed, “You feel so good, Killua. You’re _so good.”_

“Oh, yeah?” Killua replied teasingly.

“Yeah,” Gon let out a low moan, hips smacking against Killua’s ass, pale skin turning red. “I wanna be like this more--”

Killua knew it was the sex talking. He knew Gon would realize such in the morning, as well. But, that didn't mean he couldn’t egg the guy on a little.

“K-Keep hitting that spot and you’ll earn yourself another night, Gon~” Killua moaned sexily, purposefully.

Gon groaned immediately, “Don’t talk like that--”

He let his hips finish for him, pounding into Killua’s prostate relentlessly, forcing Killua’s jaw to drop, silent screams leaking out of his open mouth, brows quivering, body flaring to life.

Killua’s hands coiled around the sheets tightly, to such an extent, he could feel his nails digging into his palms. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough to ease the ineffable bliss electrocuting his entire being. Gon did as he was told, and more, digging into him, abusing that sensitive spot, making Killua’s cock throb and weep, slapping against his stomach in tune with Gon’s hips.

“Killua, come for me, okay?” Gon moaned, slipping away from sanity bit by bit. “Do it on the sheets, I want you to... _”_

Killua merely choked in response. He felt helpless. He was falling. He was being consumed. Drowning. And, when it happened, Gon’s cock never once stopping, he let out a cracked moan. That heat, blindingly white with golden edges, swallowed him whole. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t moan, couldn’t move.

It overtook him and rocked him, lulled him into nothingness. Blissful blankness.

Gon wasn’t far behind--it was as if he’d been waiting for Killua to climax, the entire time.

Several desperate thrusts later, he was hovering over Killua, hands coming to hold the other man’s, sweaty and warm, curling around his knuckles. Killua sank into the bed, further in his drool, feeling Gon’s jagged breaths wash over him, twitching in his depths.

\---

The only cleaning up to follow their thoughtless escapade was Gon ridding himself of the condom and ripping the sheets off the bed to replace them.

Killua laid on his back, Gon beside him, both still trying to regulate their breathing. It was bizarre, to Killua, how the night had gone. How this whole week had gone. How all the tension from the restaurant, the trunk of his car and Gon’s couch had manifested into a monster within moments.

Four years apart, four years full of regret of never confessing, four years of wishing and yearning. Killua knew the influence of the time gap had him dying to touch Gon. Had him torturously attracted to the raven the second he laid eyes on him, wanting him more than he’d ever had, before.

And, he wondered.

_What was Gon’s excuse?_

“Hey, Killua…”

Killua blinked, glancing over. “Mnhh?”

“I don’t wanna ruin the moment… but… I wanna tell you something…”

A gulp. “Oh… okay, shoot…”

Gon shifted onto his side, facing Killua full on, naked, hair messy, strands of black falling over his forehead. He smiled faintly, “You sure you wanna hear it?”

“Just say it, Gon.”

There was a pause, and, it ate Killua alive.

“You were right…”

“About what?” came a tentative whisper.

Gon’s smile lengthened, “Your body really _is_ taut.”

Killua tensed. Froze. Blinked. All before closing his eyes and groaning, “Oh, _God._ If you don’t shut up--”

“--No, really. It’s taut. It’s _so taut._ You were _so right.”_ Gon laughed, slinging an arm over Killua’s stomach.

Killua tried not to laugh, but his lips were twitching, “You are so fucking annoying, Freecss, you--you know--that?” He gave in and laughed. It was frivolous and freeing, relieving the tension he’d begun to create regarding post-sex awkwardness. “Way to ruin the moment.”

Gon snickered, “I told you I didn’t want to! You said it was okay.”

“Well, it’s not,” Killua snorted, keeping his eyes closed, the warm caress of oncoming slumber reaching him. “It’s not okay, at all. It’s all ruined…”

Gon let his eyes close, too, smile still stretching his lips. He scooted closer to the other man, arm tightening around a slim waist. “All of it?”

“Mhmm… All of it, Freecss. Everything.”

“...The whole night?”

“Mm.” Killua murmured, “The whole night.”

Gon’s voice was soft, sleepy--content, “...’T’s not fair…”

“I know… it’s not… Now, when I think about tonight, I’ll just remember you saying that… ‘Won’t even… remember the sex... So. Thanks…”

“You better remember it…”

“...Being called taut?”

“...No…”

Killua didn’t try to clarify what Gon was talking about. He knew. And, he didn’t want to hear it. He snorted under his breath and let silence settle on them.

And, in the brief moments before going under, he had the faintest urge to text Kurapika. To warn him of what would need to be dealt with, tomorrow. But, he didn’t remember where he’d put his phone, much less; if he’d brought it with him, at all.

Gon's arm squeezed him gently, bringing him closer to a tan body. And, he pushed the thought to the furthest corner of his mind.

The text would have to wait.

The mourning, the pain.

 _Everything_ would have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, God. Ohhhh. Phew. Can't speak. 
> 
> Also, thank you guys soooo much for the comments and kudos, and everything! You make me cry. 
> 
> *May or may not have been listening to explicitly suggestive music whilst writing this*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received a concern about Kurapika's upcoming advice. I don't feel as if this is entirely needed, but, of course, Kurapika is not a licensed therapist, and, neither am I. However, I do go to therapy for anxiety. The tactics suggested (for overcoming a crush/heartbreak) are not guaranteed to work--like everything else in the world. And, while these tactics are not made up, they may work for some while they may not work for others--as everyone is different. What I'm getting at is: This is a story for enjoyment. You don't need a license or degree to give your friend advice that best suits them.

Birds chirping on a branch below the window woke him up, the second time.

The first time he’d awoken, had been during the early hours of the morning, the world still asleep and blanketed with silent moonlight. Part of his brain had never rested, keeping him vaguely aware of his predicament even while he dreamt.

He’d woken up, facing a chest of tan skin, his leg draped over two others--Gon’s. The recollection of what landed him in this position shocked him so intensely that it’d manifested into physical pain, tight in his chest, clamping down on his stomach to such a point, he feared he’d vomit.

Several long, deep breaths kept him from doing so. Seeing Gon’s face, helped, as well. For, Gon looked like a child when he slept--content and relaxed; not a single wrinkle or blemish to distract one from his natural beauty. Skin contrasting against the white pillow against his cheek. He looked peaceful. Eyelids softly pulled over motionless eyes. Brows sitting perfectly apart, not a line between them.

Killua had spent moments upon moments gazing at the raven. Realizing that he, himself, didn’t look that way. No, he had to look distressed, face contorted with anxiety and panic.

And, he thought, maybe, he should leave. Carefully slither out from under Gon’s warm, heavy arm. Melt out of his grasp like a block of thawing ice, pour onto the floor and slip away.

_You shouldn’t be here._

Is what the anxious part of him whispered.

_Leave._

It urged.

_Before he wakes up and regrets it all._

It bellowed.

“...No…” He found himself whispering back, grey eyes focused on the sleeping face. And, he forced himself to consider the brazenly obvious phenomenon before him. Gon looked perfect-- _serene._ He had been absolutely aware of the fact that they were sharing a bed together, and he’d fallen asleep without trouble.

He knew Killua was there.

He knew.

And, he was wearing this expression.

So, why was he freaking out? Why did he want to leave? Because they were friends who’d slept together without thinking? Killua bit his lip, thinking on that.

Lack of discretion aside, the most important factor, here, was that they were both friends. They were friends before the sex. Friends during. And, they’d only continue to be such, if Killua stayed.

He believed that leaving, would sever their bond, completely. Sex was an enigma of extreme fragility. It needed to be handled with the faintest of touches--the gentlest care. Chiefly, when it involved someone special. To Killua, because of it, their friendship was hanging on a steadily fraying thread, ready to snap under the slightest pressure of a wrong move.

If he left, they’d undergo a potentially irreparable rift.

If he stayed, he’d feel uncomfortable, but, Gon would be assured that what they participated in was neither a mistake, nor, a regret. The last things he would ever want to convey out of mere fright.

So, he stayed. And, indulged--nudging even closer to Gon until his forehead met warm skin.

He didn’t wake up this way, the second time. Instead, he awoke to a damp spot of drool against his cheek, face down, arms outstretched and touching nothing but sheets. He wasn’t sure if he was expecting Gon to be beside him--or, maybe, even looking forward to such a thing, but, upon discovering he was alone, he felt a frown pull on his lips.

The frown lengthened into a scowl when he sat up. A dull, throbbing pain running up his spine.

“Nice…” He muttered before carefully shifting around, trying to get out of bed without feeling the same discomfort. Amidst his unique maneuvers, he noticed that his clothes had been retrieved, folded and placed atop the dresser across the room. “...Gon…”

It was as if saying the name aloud summoned the man’s presence, considering, immediately after, a cheerful humming began to sound in the distance amongst the clinking of glasses and the closing of a cupboard.

\---

Gon was humming to himself, watering a plant by the patio door, when Killua saw him. He could only see the raven’s back, could only see damp, black hair, sticking up in random places, as if he’d taken a shower moments prior. Long, black sweats and a white tank clinging to a fit back.

Something flipped in Killua’s stomach, urging him to stop checking the guy out before last night’s events repeated themselves--before he _made_ them. He turned away, toward the kitchen, and had only taken a single step before hearing his name.

“Killua, you’re up!”

With great difficulty and a stiff posture, Killua turned back around. And, when blue eyes met brown, he felt his heart begin to race. Felt those pesky butterflies materialize out of thin air. It was because he knew, now. He knew what those eyes could look like. He knew what that smile could tilt into. What that cheerful voice could sound like when tight with desire.

God, what did he get himself into...

“Hey,” Nevertheless, Killua pulled off an even tone.

Gon lifted the hand holding a green watering can, gesturing toward the kitchen. “I made coffee, if you want some.”

“Oh,” Killua nodded, glancing behind, as a reflex. He looked back at the raven, “Thanks. You drink coffee?”

“No, still don’t.” Striding over, Gon shook his head, snorting, “But, I figured that _you_ did, so, I went out and got some before you woke up.”

Killua lifted a single brow, eyeing the man as he walked past, “‘Figured’? What’s that mean?”

“You kinda strike me as someone who drinks coffee instead of sleeping.”

It was a teasing tone, and, it had Killua smiling sheepishly. He turned and followed Gon to the kitchen only to be stopped at the doorway, spout of a water can inches from his nose.

"Uhm."

“Take a seat, I’ll get you a cup,” Gon smiled assuringly.

Killua let out a nervous chuckle. Did Gon want him to stay even longer? Dread began to fill him at the thought, making him want to lie and explain that he was pressed for time--that he needed to leave. But, he forced away those anxious urges. For, even more than that, he wanted to ensure that nothing had changed in their dynamic. That things were still ‘normal’. So, he sighed.

“Fine. One cup, Freecss. But, I gotta go after that.”

Gon chuckled, wagging the watering can, “Fine by me. I have plans, too, you know. ‘Don’t need _you_ here, mooching off of me, all day.”

Killua scoffed playfully, “As if I’d pick _you_ to mooch off of. ‘Probably turn into a plant from eating all your shitty, organic food.”

Gon lowered his hand, lips shifting into a smirk. “‘Shitty, organic food’? That’s funny.” His eyes held an amused sparkle, focused solely on Killua, who swallowed tensely. Gon swearing, was not a good thing. Not a good thing, at all.

 _“What’s_ funny?” Killua muttered. “And, stop cussing…”

“Well, for someone who _hates_ organic food, you sure liked my spaghetti.”

“That was--” Killua sputtered in surprise before simmering down. He turned away, feigning aloofness, “I don’t appreciate you tricking me into eating healthy, Gon.”

“You have to start, sometime. Why not by accident?”

“How selfish. You know how long I've been maintaining this diet?”

“Uh… since forever.”

“Exactly. And, now, my streak’s ruined.”

Gon laughed, watching the other male fold his arms and walk away. Before he turned into the kitchen, he called out; “Let me guess how you like it, then. A cup of sugar and a couple spoons of coffee?”

Killua smiled, pulling a chair out from the table. “Good boy, Freecss,” he’d raised his voice so Gon could hear him and he heard a laugh follow after.

It was silent for a moment, as Killua (carefully) settled into his seat . His hands were shaking, again--exactly how they had been the last time he sat at this table. It was just a cup of coffee, he told himself. He could withstand that much.

But, Gon’s tone… He wasn’t quite sure. It was amused and playful--more so than he remembered it being. The way Gon had been looking at him was peculiar, as well. It was overjoyed, almost. Excited when nothing exciting was happening.

Maybe, Gon was happy they did it?

Killua quickly cast the idea aside, deeming it as wishful thinking.

Instead, maybe, Gon was just doing what _Killua_ was doing; keeping everything normal, purposefully warding off the awkward tension that would befall most friends in their situation. And, if that were the case, Killua was _obligated_ to put forth as much effort as Gon was, wasn’t he?

When Gon appeared, a yellow coffee mug in hand, Killua leaned forward on the table, forearms crossed atop its surface. He smirked; “‘Better be sweet.”

Gon took the same seat he took last night, sliding the mug toward the man, “I was gonna make it really sweet, but, I figured you had enough cavities, as is.” The lighthearted inflection made Killua feel as if the butterflies in his stomach were mad at him.

“I don’t have cavities,” Killua snapped without any bite, taking the mug. Glancing into it, he gave a nod, “‘Least there’s no milk.”

Gon snickered quietly, watching the man drink. He’d quickly fallen silent, however, and, it almost appeared as if he were contemplating something, what with his gaze dropping, becoming unfocused and distracted. It made Killua afraid to lower his mug, for fear of ‘last night’ becoming the topic of conversation.

Sadly, he couldn’t drink forever--he had to set it down at some point. And, when he did, he braced himself, watching Gon’s lips part.

“Hey, Killua.”

“Mnn, what?”

Gon glanced up at him, “Wanna know something weird?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“How weird _is_ it?”

The raven shrugged, “Not _that_ weird. But, it’s kind of interesting.”

“‘Kay, shoot.”

A chuckle. “Did you know that we’re not supposed to drink cow milk?”

A moment.

Killua slumped wearily, “What the hell?”

Gon laughed, “No, really. We’re not supposed to. We’re, like, the only animals that drink _another_ _animal’s_ milk.”

“...Gon…”

The raven laughed, again, lifting an index finger, “Think about it. Have you ever heard of a wolf, or something, going up to a cow to get milk?”

“No.”

“Right. Humans are the only ones that do this. That’s why a lot of people are lactose intolerant. That’s what I read, anyway.”

Killua couldn’t hold back, anymore. He bursted out laughing, shaking his head. It wasn’t at Gon’s expense, and, the man knew that. In fact, he’d joined in on it, gripping the edge of the table with his hands, leaning back in his chair.

“You’re so weird, Gon, what the hell,” Killua sighed, tone light, “What brought _that_ on?”

Gon pointed at him, still grinning, the front legs of his chair tipping forward to sit normally, “You were talking about milk.”

“Right, right,” Killua snickered, “Well, I guess you have a point, yanno… It makes sense. So, what, then? You gonna start investing in _soy_ milk, or something?”

“You want to?”

Killua flinched, “Hm? Like, both of us?”

Gon nodded, “Yeah. We could both do it.”

Uh-oh. His heart was racing, again. Killua cleared his throat, grip on the mug’s handle tightening. It was immensely bizarre that Gon would invite Killua to partake in something so simple. It wasn’t as if they were discussing fasting or going on a strict diet. But, the fact that Gon wanted to do something like this with him reminded him of all the times they’d held themselves to weird challenges in school. Eating anchovies for a week straight. Eating any, and all, vegetables with ketchup--whoever gave up first, lost.

It dug up those memories, and more.

And, it made him want to say yes.

“...Sure.”

“Really?” Black brows lifted, “You actually wanna convert to something healthy?” Gon smirked, “I gotta call Aunt Mito. No! I gotta call the _news!”_

Blue eyes rolled, “Oh, shut up. It’s just milk. If I overpower it with cereal, it won’t be any different.”

Gon laughed at that, but, the air about it was different than earlier. His laughter sounded more like a song than anything else; warm and flitting, dancing out of his mouth and into Killua’s ears.

“That’s so you,” Gon finally smiled, while Killua took it upon himself to chug the rest of his coffee.

He didn’t want to smile back. He didn’t want to see Gon’s lips, either. It was disorienting. Because, he felt… he felt as if this could be normal for them. That, if things were slightly different, it would be normal to sleep together, wake up in the same bed, drink coffee and laugh together. Smile at each other. Kiss, maybe...

“Let’s do it, yeah?”

“Mmm,” Killua nodded, swallowing. “Soy.”

“Yeah, think you can do it?”

“Yup. It’ll be…uh… _soy_ easy....”

A pause.

More laughter.

\---

He had been looking forward to brainstorming with Kurapika since Friday night. He’d been shamelessly eager, itching to speak to the blonde--dying to reach enlightenment and recover from all that had happened.

But, what he was in absolutely _no rush_ to hear was--

“--You’re joking.”

Killua stood in the middle of their living room, windbreaker zipped all the way up to cover his bruised neck, hands clenched into fists at his thighs. His cheeks were flushed, cerulean eyes glaring in attempts to defend himself.

Kurapika sat on their sofa, legs crossed, hazel eyes dull, voice utterly deadpan.

Killua heaved a large sigh, “No. I’m not. Don’t… don’t stare at me like that.”

The blonde sighed, himself, setting his book on the cushion beside him. Resting his hands in his lap, his gaze returned to the frantic man, though, he didn’t utter a single word. And, that caused Killua to _overshare._

“I-I couldn’t help it, alright! Gon was just… he was… saying all this stuff and he wanted to pretend that he was taking _me_ out on a date instead of L--that girl-- and he was-- Well, it felt like he was _flirting_ with me. I dunno. And, before I knew it, I was in his lap and he was saying all this shit about ‘things feeling right’ and, I thought about how ‘step two’ was going to help me cope, after, so, I just went for it. Yanno? And, well… that’s...”

“...And, that’s why there’s a hickey on your neck, visible because your collar isn’t tall enough to hide it. Why you _pointedly_ avoided sitting on the couch due to, I presume, you being sore. And, why you look completely and utterly helpless.”

Killua nearly lunged at the man, feeling the hot drumming of embarrassment course through him.

“Shut up!” he spat, “C’mon, take this seriously! You don’t have to point out the fucking obvious, Kurapika.”

Kurapika chuckled to himself, though, he tried to stifle it. He didn’t believe in laughing at one’s misfortune, but, the way Killua was carrying himself was rather comical.

“I _am_ taking this seriously. Your expressions are just ridiculous.” Kurapika brought his laughter to an end, “But, I apologize.”

Killua folded his arms tightly across his chest, glare growing darker, “Whatever.”

“Honestly, I’m still taken aback--you slept with Gon because you knew we’d work on a recovery plan?”

Killua’s lips tightened into a line.

The blonde sighed, lifting a hand, “Killua, that’s like getting addicted to the worst possible drug, merely because you’re aware that you can just go to _rehab_ if it gets out of hand.”

Killua didn’t want to laugh. The joke was stupid. But, it was so, so, _so true._ That was exactly what he had done! He’d let his yearning for Gon influence him too heavily and overlooked the bigger scheme of things. He’d never felt more idiotic in his entire life.

Killua bowed his head, sighing heavily, yet again, “I know. I know. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have let it happen. Just a big mistake.”

“No, I didn’t say that.”

Killua perked up, instantly, eyes wide and perplexed. Cocking a brow, he uttered; “Huh?”

Kurapika stared at him intently, confident in his words. He nodded, “I didn’t say you shouldn’t have let it happen. I said that _taking advantage of ‘step two’_ was asinine.”

“Wait, wait--” Killua closed his eyes minutely, brows scrunching up--completely confused. He waved his hands around, “You’re saying it was _fine_ for me to sleep with him?”

“Mm. Yes.”

Killua waited for the man to explain, but, upon receiving nothing else, he slumped, throwing his hands down. “You know, I appreciate you being so short and sweet, Kurapika--cutting to the chase, and all. But, could you, I don’t know, _elaborate?_ I’m going insane, over here.”

Kurapika snorted, “Clearly.” He waved a hand, “I don’t believe that what you did was a mistake, whatsoever. From what you’ve said, it doesn’t sound like you instigated it or tried to turn him. It sounds quite the opposite. That Gon was the one to initiate everything. And, if that were the case, you two were just doing what felt natural.” He paused, gesturing to the cushion beside him. When Killua strode over and sat, he turned to face him, and, continued.

“There’s nothing wrong with doing what feels right. It’s important, actually. There was a connection, between you two. Many of the feelings you possessed, in that moment, were mutual. And, acting on that makes you, neither, right, nor, wrong.” His gaze softened, faintly, “It makes you human.”

Killua was stunned silent. Over the years, Killua’s had his fair share of therapy with Kurapika. But, no matter how many times they’ve had conversations such as this, it always managed to surprise him when Kurapika set aside his witty remarks and, instead, offered thoughtful, genuine guidance.

“So, don’t chastise yourself over this. Because, I know you are.”

Killua snorted, looking at his lap.

“You guys did nothing wrong. There’s nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing to regret.” He let that soak in, for a moment. “Feel better?”

Killua nodded, peering up at the blonde. “Yeah. Uh... Thanks.”

He truly did. This would be the second time in three days that Kurapika had managed to free Killua from an overbearing weight sitting on his shoulders. And, now, he felt free, flexible, light. He just felt _better_.

 _“But.”_ Kurapika said, suddenly, sternly. He looked away, tapping his chin with the tip of his index finger, “It still poses a problem.”

Killua groaned, “Oh, great.”

“Why’re you acting surprised? You should already be aware of this.”

“Yeah, but, for a second, there, I wasn’t thinking about it.” Killua leaned back into the couch, exhaling and stretching his legs out, heels pressing against the ground. “Dammit. Because of it,” he muttered quietly, “I like him even more, now.”

“Exactly,” Kurapika agreed, “And, you’re going to start thinking about it.”

“God--you’re right.” Killua felt his neck begin to grow hot, “I’m gonna end up wanting it, again, aren’t I?” Out of frustration, his hands came up to rustle his hair, “Dammit! How can I keep an open mind about it if I’m worse off because of it?”

Kurapika rolled his eyes, “Because. Accepting what happened and fantasizing about it are two completely different things.”

Killua’s hands dropped to his lap. A sigh. “‘Guess that makes sense.” He glanced over, “So, this is where Step Two comes in.”

“Actually, Step _Three,”_ the blonde replied, folding his arms.

“Step Three...” Killua repeated, questioningly.

“Mhmmm.”

In silence, Killua faced his friend with pensive eyes. It took a moment, but, he caught on.

“Oh--I get it. Step Two, to all this, was really just you instilling in my head that there was going to _be_ a second step. To ease my nerves and allow me to be neutral about Lani.”

“‘Guess you _can_ be smart, after all.” Kurapika teased, “Though, you _did_ misuse the benefit of that plan, _completely_. Therefore--I take that back.”

“Whatever,” the other man mumbled. “So, how am I gonna do this?”

“Well, how do you feel?”

Killua shifted in his seat, thinking--trying to _feel_ something. His hand came up to his zipper, pulling it and lifting it, out of habit. While his eyes darted all over the place, mainly at his lap, he realized he didn’t really feel _anything_. However, it wasn’t necessarily a _good_ ‘anything’. He felt numb.

As if, his psyche found it too exhausting to feel something--disassociating itself from the whole ordeal, completely.

“Nothing. I don’t feel anything.”

“Really?”

Killua shrugged, “Mm… yeah. I’m… I dunno, I just don’t feel anything. About anything.”

Kurapika nodded, chewing on that. He held Killua’s stare for a few moments before lifting a shoulder, “You might just be emotionally tired. All of this _did just_ happen.”

“Probably.” Killua leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “So, what’s the plan, then?”

The blonde hummed, folding his arms and drumming his fingers against his bicep. The two sat into a brief silence, blue eyes scanning around the room, hazel eyes drawn to the carpet.

“Hm. Well, because Gon is straight, you’re going to need to distinguish your romantic feelings toward him. So, the first key to this, is distancing yourself.”

Killua didn’t like that idea. In fact, he didn’t like anything Kurapika had just said, at all. Gon was back in his life, now--he didn’t want to keep away from him, whether he loved him or not. Gon was fun to be around, Gon made him laugh. Gon was his friend…

And, he liked what he felt whenever he saw the man. Even though he complained about it, he _liked_ that thumping he got in his chest, that golden warmth that spread over every nerve in his body. He liked _feeling something_ whenever he looked at Gon. Gon was the only one who’d ever drawn such sensations and emotions from him. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to connect gazes with the raven and find that nothing was there.

“...Okay…” he mustered, anyway.

“So, try to avoid hanging out with him--being in the same space as him, in general. Just for a while. When you’re around him, you’re only going to want to touch him.” Kurapika lifted his index finger from his arm, pointing it at Killua, “Worst case scenario; you’ll be gravely disappointed if he doesn’t show you the same affection he did, yesterday.”

Killua nodded. He hadn’t thought about that aspect. It had his heart beating slowly, just imagining the pain he’d undergo if Gon wasn’t focused on him. If he wasn't treated with the same attentiveness he received on the couch or at the dinner table.

“Which, leads us to the next key,” Kurapika recrossed his legs, “Whenever you start thinking _lewdly_ about Gon, you need to do something that will clear your mind. You can’t let those thoughts consume you--you’ll just end up running over to his place and giving in.”

Killua nodded, “‘Makes sense… Something that’ll clear my mind…” He blinked, “Oh. Skating does that. The wind and everything. I’ll just skate if that happens.”

Kurapika almost smiled--the idea was brilliant. “That’s a good idea. Replace your thoughts with something that truly distracts you. Skateboarding used to be your means of escape before we moved here, after all… That’ll work.”

“Okay, cool.”

“Mm. So, then, the next keys would have to be things that coincide with your personality.”

“Hmm, like what?” Killua pouted his lips, thoughtfully.

“Well, you’re negative.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Your negativity is going to play a role in this, I’m sure. So, how about… Whenever you have unhealthy thoughts, voice them.”

A silver brow rose. “Voice them? To you?”

Kurapika shrugged, “To me. To yourself. It doesn’t matter. Wherever you are, just voice it. Keeping it inside will tear you apart. But, voicing each of those thoughts will take them out of yourself and place them elsewhere. Hearing it aloud will help, as well.”

“What, like, I’ll realize how dumb I sound, or something?” Killua snorted, but, quieted down when Kurapika didn’t laugh along. He was deadpanning, again. And, his expression spoke volumes. “Okay. Got it.”

“Alright, then, lastly… you’re the type of person that gets delirious if cooped up in your own mind, for too long. So, keep yourself busy. You may want to hide in your bed and mourn, but, if you’re constantly moving, you won’t have time to think about Gon. And, over time, those feelings may dissipate on their own.”

Killua didn’t reply right away. He sat there and took everything in. Reviewing the steps he needed to take in order to get over Gon. Pondering if they would work. How willing he’d be to devote himself to these tactics.

He could do it, he decided. He didn’t want to, but, he could get over Gon if he tried.

“Alright, I can do it.” Killua finally chirped, sitting up. “Yeah, okay. I can do this.”

Kurapika smiled, “Feeling confident?”

Killua nodded, “Yeah, I mean, I understand the gravity of the situation--'don't really have a choice. But, surprisingly, I feel better about it all.”

“Good, good.”

“Thanks for all that…” Killua stood up, slipping his hands into his pockets. He nodded towards the blonde, on last time, “I’m gonna go skate, now.”

Kurapika watched, tensely, as Killua exited the room without another word. A sigh; _“Gross…”_

\---

Sunday had gone by, a fleeting moment.

Aside from the instance where he needed to leave Kurapika without explanation, Killua hadn’t thought of Gon, once. Although, the essence, that was ‘Gon’, indubitably hung in the air around him, his mind and body couldn’t be bothered by it. It was too tired-- subconsciously content with Saturday’s happenings and the special way Gon looked at him during coffee.

He didn’t feel troubled, and, he didn’t try to search for a reason to be. He knew the emotional paralysis had to wear off at some point. So, he welcomed the numbness and prepared for the worst.

The worst came, Monday.

A cursed day, as far as Killua was concerned. He’d woken up so exhausted, it was as if he hadn’t slept, at all. He’d trudged everywhere, sliding his feet against the ground, careless to lift them as he walked. He was unresponsive to conversation. Didn’t laugh at anything. Hardly ate.

It didn’t occur to him why he was suffering such emptiness until the afternoon. He’d been showering, getting ready for work, when the realization hit him. The realization that it was _Monday_ \--the day of Gon and Lani’s date.

The chances of them going out in the morning, were impossibly slim, and, being that Killua still hadn’t a clue as to what Gon had planned, he could only surmise that their date would take place, either, in the afternoon or in the evening. Which meant… they could be together at that very moment.

He stumbled back, out of the water raining on him and bowed his head. Water collected into small streams, trickling down from his white bangs to the floor. An occurrence he didn’t see, as his eyes were clenched shut. His brows were furrowed deeply, pinching together. His teeth clamped down on a bottom lip as it quivered. He felt as if this immense weight was lifted high, high above and dropped right onto him.

The weight wasn’t solid. It was dense and lithe. Pushing down on and smothering him, all the same. It was a suffocating feeling. Entrapping. Neither, cold, nor, hot. It was touchless and dreary, yet, tactile and winding. It was heartbreak.

He kept imagining it; Gon with this girl. Smiling with her. Pulling her chair out for her. Letting her hear that special laugh that’d, once, danced around his coffee mug. Gazing at her with the same eyes that watched him pant and melt.

It hurt.

Blue eyes opened. The very moment light greeted them, they began to sting--and, he wasn’t sure if it was due to shampoo getting in his eyes or if he was crying. He didn’t want to cry. He wouldn’t allow it. No. _He wasn’t going to cry._

“Keep busy,” he told himself sternly, voice hoarse as it traveled through a clenching throat. “Keep busy.”

He’d clocked in early that day. He’d stayed late, as well. He’d helped more customers than usual--contrary to his customary habit of avoiding eye contact with anyone who walked through the door. He kept himself as busy as he possibly could.

And, when he returned home, he’d forced Leorio to have a late dinner with him. Leorio was a talker. While Killua had constantly complained about it, back in Yorknew, he needed it, now. He needed something to distract him, and, Leorio’s countless tales and boundless energy did just the trick.

It was nearly impossible to fall asleep that night, what with his apartment falling into this ringing, vibrating silence after Leorio's departure. He'd tossed and turned, mind full of heart wrenching simulations, heart beating too slow, then, beating too fast. He wanted to sleep and feel nothing, but, he also wanted to stay up to face the pain and cry it out. These conflicting desires kept him restless for hours.

But, once the clock struck midnight, peeling away another day on the calendar, the weight mysteriously seemed to lift. The disappearance was gradual, but, bit by bit, Killua’s personality wormed its way back.

And, he was finally able to fall asleep.

 

\---

“I hate Lani.”

Killua was by the patio door of his apartment, holding a handful of darts, glaring at a helpless dartboard on the wall before him. He lifted a hand and speared the thing, dart stabbing right into that lovely red center.

“I hate her.”

He was voicing his negative thoughts, as instructed, days ago. Tuesday, he hadn’t voiced too many--he hadn’t had any, really. He was more somber than spiteful. And, had only expressed the misery of Gon never loving him back-- to a wall. He had to admit that it felt relieving to get it out into the open. But, now, he had Kurapika, who was flipping through a magazine on their sofa. A wall couldn’t respond. But, the Kurta could.

Kurapika nodded, never looking up from the content in his lap. His voice came out dry, as if he weren’t paying attention. “Mm… why?”

“Because.”

“...Because…”

“Because, she’s a bitch.”

“...Why…”

Killua threw another dart, collar growing hot with anger. “Because, Gon loves her.”

Kurapika didn’t reply--he kept silent, flipping another page. He didn’t need to say anything, for, Killua would realize it, soon enough. And, when he did, those darts fell to the ground.

“Oh, God,” Killua groaned, head tipping back, “I sound fucking stupid.”

The blonde snickered under his breath.

“No, really, I sound like an idiot,” Killua muttered, bending over to pick up the befallen game pieces. But, instead of collecting them and straightening up, he ended up falling to the floor, sitting beside them, instead. “I hate her because _Gon likes her?”_

“That’s what you said~” Kurapika sighed, flipping another page.

“That’s dumb. It’s not her fault.” Killua mumbled, crossing his legs. He pressed his elbow against his knee and propped his head up in his palm. “Gon has… he has good intuition. He wouldn’t fall for someone who wasn’t a good person, I don’t think. Lani’s gotta be… she’s gotta be pretty nice if he likes her… Good morals. Optimistic--probably...”

A pause.

“But, if she sleeps with him, I’ll take all that back.”

“Mnhh… why?”

“Because.”

“Mhmm…”

“Because, he slept with _me,_ first.”

“So?”

 _“So…”_ Killua grumbled, “So… she should… Well, Gon’s…” He sighed heavily, eyes closing, head shaking, “Again... I sound so stupid.”

“I agree.”

Killua lifted his head and whipped it around to glare at the blonde, who hadn’t looked up from his lap, this entire time. He wanted to screech at the guy--tell him to take _his_ side, once in a while. But, he soon understood that that would be the _worst_ thing Kurapika could do. This was supposed to happen. This was all part of recovery.

If he kept these nasty thoughts to himself, he’d just end up believing them, descending deeper into a void of negativity. He’d replace his heartache with a grudge--something far more deteriorative. Not only that, but, hearing his jumbled thoughts with his own ears made it painfully clear just how foolish they were.

It almost made him think; if Gon came up to him and said all of these things, how would he respond? He would tell Gon he was being moronic. That what he was saying didn’t make sense. 

Something about finally  _getting it_ made him a little happier.

Kurapika was a mastermind, if he’d ever met one.

Said man, finally, closed the magazine and glanced over. “I must say…”

Killua blinked, “What?”

“It’s only Wednesday, and, you’re progressing much quicker than I’d predicted.”

“How so?”

“Well, listen to yourself.”

Killua slumped, “What? How dumb I sound? How is that progression?”

“No, not that,” the blonde shook his head, “Idiotic statements, aside. You’re saying her _name_ \--freely, even. You’re talking about her without crying or sulking in a corner. You’re openly speaking about her and even associated her with positive qualities. That’s something to think about.”

Killua hadn’t realized it, but, saying Lani’s name didn’t make his chest tight, anymore. It didn’t make him frigid or angry. He was envious, but, he was also neutral. It was as if, unbeknownst to him, his mind had already accepted her indirect positioning in his life.

Killua cleared his throat, looking away, at the darts beside him. “...Maybe…”

\---

While he was no longer spewing Lani-related nonsense, Killua found himself skating more frequently. And, while the days immediately following his night with Gon were hard on him--difficult to withstand, the remaining days of the week were clouded with a rolling lavender fog.

His heart wasn’t aching nearly as bad as before. There were even times where he felt as if it didn’t hurt, at all. It was all thanks to Kurapika, he knew. His tactics and ideas took a lot of devotion, but, they produced results-- _actual_ _results_. When he felt light, Kurapika helped him maintain it. And, when he broke, Kurapika was able to get his mind back on track. He wondered how much worse all this would’ve been without the man by his side. If he only had his anxiety to pat his back, to murmur thoughts into his ear.

He didn’t need to worry about that, though. He needed to focus on his remaining troubles; his romantic feelings toward Gon and the strong attraction that came along with them.

It was harder than he thought. Not that he’d expected it to be easy.

He couldn’t help thinking about Gon in the sinful way that he’d been. Fantasies crept up on him--startling him every time. He’d think about Gon, as he usually did. He’d think about those bright, doe eyes and that pointed nose. He’d think about those perfectly smiling lips.

And, slowly--slowly--those lips would simmer into a smoldering smirk. They would part and murmur Killua’s name in a hot whisper. That whisper would sweep over his skin, ghost over his shoulders and down his back like running water.

_He wanted Gon._

He wanted Gon’s hands, again. Wanted Gon’s kisses. Gon’s skin against his. He wanted to hear that rough voice, again--rough just for him. _Because of him._

Whenever these thoughts carried on longer than necessary, Killua grabbed his board, day or night, and escaped.

It was the grinding against the pavement that soothed him, every time. The crisp wind blowing through his clothes and rustling his hair, as if he were flying. The feeling of drifting through the city, not being slowed down by feet or demeaned by the tedious fashion of walking.

When atop his skateboard, he felt _free_. He felt as if he could go anywhere. That, he could keep going, and going, and going. He wouldn’t have to stop. Wouldn’t have to turn around. Could just keep going. Swim through all the different sceneries, surrender to the changing climates, smell the different scents of air as he traveled from place to place.

It was that feeling, alone, that made skateboarding an escape. Realistically, he wouldn’t board out of the city--wouldn’t pack up and leave. But, knowing he could, _feeling like he could_ , enlightened him.

It was the perfect way to force Gon’s touch out of his head.

\---

Sunday night.

“Have you been talking to Gon?”

Killua slid his finger to the top of his phone, turning it off. Slipping it into his pocket, he glanced over at the blonde beside him. “Are you asking because you just saw me text him?”

Kurapika kept his eyes ahead, rolling them at Killua’s cheeky tone. “Talking to him, everyday, isn’t going to help you get over him.”

Killua stepped closer to the cart Kurapika was driving, allowing a woman and her child to squeeze past him in the cramped aisle. “Well, I can’t ignore him. We had sex. If I do that, there won’t be a friendship to come back to.”

The two stopped, arriving at the coffee section.

“You think so?” Kurapika asked, eyes shifting back and forth to find his favorite, “I don’t.”

Killua stepped back, arms coming up and bending behind his head. “Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, there,” the blonde muttered to himself, plucking a container from the shelf. He turned to Killua whilst tossing it into their cart. “You could always be honest with him. Tell him that you need time to yourself. It’s Gon. He’d respect that.”

Killua tensed up, “I can’t--I can’t do that. You _know_ I can’t.”

Kurapika held his stare for a moment before turning away and pushing the cart. “I don’t know… I feel as if you two sleeping together has presented an opportunity for you to come out to him. He’ll understand where you’re coming from.”

Killua swallowed, following his friend, but, lagging behind. He had his reasons. There were reasons behind his keeping his sexual orientation a 'secret'. And, altogether, he didn’t like to think about it. He liked to ignore it. Kurapika was the only person he acknowledged it with. And, he wasn’t the least bit ready for that to change.

“Maybe, some other time. When I’m over him. When I’m dating someone, or something,” Killua muttered.

“It’s your choice,” Kurapika replied, “I’m not trying to pressure you.”

“I know.”

They turned a corner.

“How is it, though? Speaking to Gon?”

Killua shrugged, “‘T’s fine. Normal, I guess.” An afterthought; “Lots of smiley faces, though…”

Kurapika brows rose on their own, “From you?”

“No, no. From Gon.”

“Is that… normal?”

Killua’s arms came down to his sides, feeling his pocket vibrate. “Kinda. Kinda not. He used to send weird faces in high school. So, it doesn’t really surprise me. But… he’s been sending a lot, lately.”

“...Interesting…”

“Is it?” Killua murmured, pulling his phone out to see a new message from the topic of conversation, himself. He glanced over, “Hey, whose turn’s it to pay?”

“Yours,” came the quick reply. “I paid last time.”

 

\---

 

Killua had ended up spending a hefty amount of his check on groceries. Solely due to Kurapika taking advantage of it being Killua’s turn. He swore, to the heights of Heaven and back, that, next time, he’d make Kurapika pay. And, _really_ pay. No pun intended, of course.

A little less than an hour had passed between Killua weeping at the register and him plopping down on his sofa, groceries finally put away. He heaved a giant sigh, picking up a remote and turning on the television. Kicking his feet up on the coffee table, he began flipping through channels. However, his thoughts derailed when he heard very familiar sounds coming from the kitchen. “‘You making coffee?”

“Is that a problem?” Came Kurapika’s distant, snarky voice.

Killua shook his head, choosing to ignore the tone. “It’s, like, nine.”

“That’s nice.”

That was when Killua decided that ‘Kurapika-time’ was over for the day. He’d resume, tomorrow, when the blonde was well rested. But, for now, maybe he’d focus on this strange prison breakout documentary…

It was rather interesting--a couple guys trying to break out of a prison in the middle of shark infested waters. But, he’d only managed to watch thirty minutes of the thing before hearing it. Three knocks. He’d dismissed it as Kurapika messing around in the kitchen. But, the revelation of truth hit him hard, when he locked gazes with the blonde, exiting their hall.

“Who…” Killua barely whispered, “Who’s that?”

Kurapika stared at him with wide eyes. Eyes that mirrored Killua’s blue. And, for a moment, if felt as if they were communicating telepathically. Killua shot up into a proper sitting position; shoulders stiff, back straight. Kurapika glanced at the door, then back at Killua, and, to the door, again.

“It’s fine. I’ll get it,” Kurapika murmured assuringly. With careful steps, he stalked towards the door, arms motionless at his sides.

Killua watched from the sofa, helpless to the anxiety rushing over him. It doused him in this freezing, cold sensation, had his physical body going numb to everything around him. He hadn’t a clue who was at their door, and, feared it may be Gon.

But, it wasn’t the thought of seeing Gon that struck him with fright. It was the uncertainty of how he, himself, would _react_ to seeing the raven. Would he be fine? Would his past heartache come rushing back? Would he cry? Would he respond with anger?

He flinched when the door unlocked.

He held his breath when it opened.

Kurapika stood at the entrance, keeping the door slightly ajar, so only he was visible to their visitor. His slender fingers drummed against the knob.

“Gon? What a surprise. ”

“Oh, hey, Kurapika!”

Killua’s focus immediately shifted to his lap. Watching the way the fabric of his shorts shifted back and forth--knees bouncing up and down, toes restless against the beige carpeting. He didn’t feel anything yet, after hearing that voice. Nothing, yet. But, he readied himself. He awaited whatever was to come.

“Hello, Gon,” Kurapika chuckled, “What brings you here? And… what are you holding, exactly?”

“Oh, this? It’s for Killua.” A pause. “Is he… here?”

Killua glanced over, pulse racing and thumping against his skin. He watched Kurapika grip the doorknob tightly, hand hidden from Gon’s view.

“Mm. Yes, he is. But, he’s getting ready for bed. He’s exhausted.”

“Oh. Well, can I give it to him, really quick?”

“Oh, here,” Kurapika lifted his free hand, and, it was safe to assume the blonde was wearing a smile. “I’ll pass the gift along to him.”

“Why?”

“Just to save you the trouble of removing and replacing your shoes.”

“...I don't mind…”

Kurapika cleared his throat, “Neither do I.  Killua’s just a little busy, I can set it on his bed and let him know you stopped by.”

Killua’s heart stopped at Gon’s next words. He was pretty sure Kurapika’s had, as well.

“Why’re you acting so weird, Kurapika?” Gon’s tone wasn’t one of confusion, it was of suspicion.

Kurapika didn’t let his surprise interfere with his disposition. He remained firm. “I don’t believe that my offering to give your gift to Killua is me ‘acting weird’.”

“No. It’s not.” Gon replied curtly, “It’s how you’re holding the door.”

As if a reflex, Kurapika’s hand shot away from the doorknob as if it had burned him. He quickly replaced it, holding it firmly. “I’m going to be honest with you, Gon. Right now isn’t a good time for you to be here.” Kurapika spoke skillfully; expressing himself through soft, inoffensive tones that, at the same time, conveyed rigidity.

The silence that followed had Killua shifting in his seat. He wondered what Gon was thinking. The raven wasn’t raised to be one who’d force his way in or impose. But, before all this, years ago, Gon had always been allowed to show up without explanation--had always been invited inside. He was welcome at any hour; an unspoken agreement. As nothing obvious had changed in their dynamic, Killua assumed that the man might be feeling a little put out--maybe, uncomfortable. And, that didn’t sit well with him. Not at all.

“What’s going on?” Gon finally replied, tone lighter--causing Killua’s stomach to twist. “Is Killua okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine,” Kurapika nodded, “Really, Gon, there’s nothing to worry about. We’re both just getting ready for bed.”

“If there’s nothing to worry about, why’re you still holding the door like that?”

Gon’s tone portrayed that he was trapped between his desire to be assertive and his obligation to fall back and accept Kurapika’s behavior.

Killua didn’t like that.

He didn’t like _this._  

Though he’d made sure to text Gon on each of the last few days, in attempts to maintain normalcy, the state of their friendship was still extremely fragile. And, what Kurapika was doing could very well be the last tug on that thread holding them together.  Regardless of his loyal intentions.

Kurapika opened his mouth to speak, yet, nothing came out. He was an exceptionally quick thinker--he’d think of something in no time. However, Killua didn’t want to give him the opportunity.

Ignoring the swirling in his gut, the man rose from the couch and headed straight for the door, reaching it in seconds. His heart was thudding loudly in his chest, but, he made sure to mask his nervousness with a clueless smirk.

He pulled on the door, “What’s up?”

Kurapika blinked, shock evident all over his face, as he pulled back, allowing Killua to show himself. And, when Killua came into view, Gon nearly dropped whatever was in his hand, eyes drawn to Killua’s without a moment’s hesitation.

“Nothing,” Kurapika shook his head, ridding himself of his confusion, “Gon, uh, Gon showed up. I was explaining to him that you were going to bed.”

“Oh, it's fine,” Killua replied distractedly, trying not to choke--trying to remember _to blink._

He’d never seen Gon dressed this way, before. While seeing Gon in a button up and slacks was absolutely (and deliciously) torturous, what he had on, now, was just unfair. Dark gray zip-up hoodie, black, knee length basketball shorts, running shoes and messily spiked hair, random strands of it falling over his forehead perfectly. He had no idea he’d be so into the athletic look. It was kind of mind boggling.

“Gon.”

Gon perked up slightly, smiling like he’d been caught doing something wrong. “Killua, hey.”

Killua inwardly swooned at the warmth saturating Gon’s voice. He’d thought he’d be a nervous wreck, seeing the man, again. He thought he’d be bitter or pained. But, not a single ill feeling greeted him. When he locked onto those bronze eyes, it was _happiness_ that melted him, clinging to and caressing every emotional nerve in his body. It was completely unexpected, and, he didn’t fight it.

He kept his smirk, “Why’re you here so late? You stalking me, Freecss?”

Gon playfully stuck out his tongue, and, Killua suffered a bombardment of less-than-innocent flashbacks. “My gym’s on this side of town. And, I figured,” he lifted the white, rectangular box he’d been holding, “I figured, while I was over here, I’d give this to you.”

Killua eyed the object, lifting a brow, “What is it?”

“Oh, it’s, uh, soy milk,” Gon smiled sheepishly, turning the box around to reveal the label.

Killua caught himself smiling and quickly discarded it, preferring to be teasing, instead. “You came here at ten at night just to give me a carton of milk, Gon?”

Gon snorted, “I knew you weren’t gonna buy any. So, ‘thought I’d get you some.”

“Good point,” Killua murmured, taking the carton into his hands. He stared down at it, one hand clutching its base, the other patting the top. In actuality, the moment he took to ponder his feelings was brief, but, to him, it felt as if he had all the time in the world. He tried to listen for the static of anxiety he was so accustomed to. Tried to focus on the hammering his heart did when nervous. But, neither were present.

Maybe, that was a good sign?

Maybe, he could indulge in this--in Gon’s surprise visit. Just a little.

He looked over at Kurapika, “Hey, think you can put this away for me?”

Kurapika cocked a brow as Killua gently forced the milk into his hands. “Ki--”

“--Hey, Gon,” Killua turned away, trying not to let the stern stare of hazel eyes get to him, “Wanna come in for a bit?” He felt Kurapika nudge his side, warningly, before hearing the blonde step away.

Gon looked taken aback by the invitation, but, the flicker of excitement in his eyes overpowered his guise. “Yeah,” he replied with a small smile, as if tentative, “If you’re not going to bed yet.”

Killua shook his head, “‘T’s fine. I can stay up for a bit.” Stepping back to let Gon in, he added; “We can just go to my room. It’s the last door on the right, okay?”

“Mm,” Gon nodded, slipping out of his sneakers.

When he headed into the hall, Killua closed the door with a sigh. He could feel Kurapika’s eyes on him, boring into his back, hot and heavy.

“I know,” he muttered, voice slightly muffled by the door.

Kurapika sighed, behind him, “I don’t really understand how your mind works, but, if you’re going to willingly subject yourself to Gon’s powers over you, you’d best make something out of it.”

Killua whisked around, confused. He was even _more_ confused to see that Kurapika didn’t appear the slightest bit annoyed or disappointed. He looked _resolute_.

“What? What’d’you mean?”

The blonde pointed at him, “ _Talk_ to him. About something _important_. Don’t put yourself through something as absurd as this and come out of it empty handed. Get the results you need to get past this. Okay?”

Killua lowered his gaze, lips curving into a faint smile.

Kurapika had a way about himself that came off superior and aloof. He shook his head at unintelligence and drawled at obvious remarks. But, these attributes, no matter how prominent they were, could never trump the part of him that always sought out the best for his friends.

Although, his words of care still came with inotations of condescension.

As Killua strode past him, he murmured a, “Okay.”

\---

 

Closing his bedroom door behind him, Killua took in the space’s dim lighting. The touch-sensitive lamp on his desk had been turned on--barely, and, the one responsible was playing with the wheels of his skateboard, in the corner.

He could do this. He felt fine. He felt centered. Maybe, this wasn’t the best decision in regards to his plans of getting over Gon, but, he had a feeling that talking to him could open his eyes--show him that being friends, while the raven dated someone else, could actually be an okay thing. Could actually work. And, maybe, that notion could propel his progress even further.

Besides; he’d already shared something special with Gon. If Lani ended up wedding him, she could never take that away.

“Tryna set the mood?”

Gon looked up, not having heard Killua slip into the room. He glanced at the lamp, then back at the man sauntering towards him with pocketed hands. A shake of the head. “N-No. ‘T’s just, your lamp is, like, _really_ intense.”

Killua laughed, standing a few feet away, “‘The hell’s that mean?”

Gon chuckled, turning to face him whilst pointing at the desk, “Okay, well, starting at the first level; it goes from you thinking you need night vision. To ‘ehh, maybe you don’t’, to this--just right. And, then from here on, I feel like it could give you a tan.”

Killua was laughing the entire time Gon spoke, and it felt good. He shook his head, “Like I said, Freecss; you’re one in a million. You're so weird.”

Gon’s arm lowered and his playful eyes simmered down to something deeper, “Hey. You are, too. One in a million, I mean.”

Butterflies. Killua cleared his throat, looking around awkwardly. “Thanks… weirdo…” He forced down the nerves he hadn’t expected to creep up on him, and looked back at the other man. His lips tilted, “I’m onto you, yanno.”

“Huh, why?”

Killua shrugged, walking around him, towards his desk. “Oh, you know… Buying milk two hours before midnight and bringing it to my place. Messing up your hair so you could sell your lame story of going to the gym… You’re so obvious, Gon.”

Amusement gradually masked Gon’s face as he turned around, smiling as if on the verge of laughter. “What’re you talking about?”

Killua turned and leaned back against his desk. “You just wanted to see me, again.”

For a second, it looked like Gon had blushed--but, it could’ve been the lighting making it seem so. The raven laughed softly, “‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“‘T’s true!”

“Mm.”

“It is.”

“‘Kay.”

“Killua.”

“Gon.”

Silence.

“Hey, Killua.”

Killua’s smile fell at the shift in tones. From teasing to soft solemnity. He gulped. “Yeah?”

Gon slipped his hands into his pockets, eyes aimed at the ground. His voice was raspy when he first spoke, so, he cleared his throat before continuing. “Does… Hey, does Kurapika… know?”

Killua felt his stomach drop as a sudden realization hit him. Someone who was straight probably wouldn’t want others to know if they’d experimented with the same sex. The tone matched the hypothesis, and, it instantly filled Killua with guilt. What should he do? Tell the truth? Lie?

 _The truth_ would lead to Killua having to spill his guts--the only way to explain Kurapika’s protectiveness.

 _A lie_ would spare Gon the negative feelings he didn’t need to have. It was just Kurapika. Kurapika was as trustworthy as they get. He’d never tell a soul--and, he’d never judge one, either.

Killua waved a hand with nonchalance, “Oh, no. Don’t worry ‘bout that. Kurapika just gets cranky like that on Sundays.”

Gon’s expression lifted. “Really? Sundays?”

“Mm. Yeah. Yanno, the day before the week starts over. Day before work. Plus, he’s tired. Probably didn’t want you coming in and us keeping him up all night.”

“Oh, right. I get it,” Gon nodded with a chuckle.

“Yeah, so, don’t worry about it.”

“...I don’t mind you telling him... It wouldn’t make me mad.”

Azure eyes widened a fraction, “Hm? Really? It… wouldn’t?” He stood up a little straighter, “W-why not?”

Gon shrugged, posture relaxed, “Well, you guys are really close--like brothers. I’d kind of expect you to tell him. And, I like Kurapika. So, it wouldn’t bother me.”

Killua nodded, struck with bewilderment. He wondered if the reason why Gon wouldn’t be affected by someone knowing was because he was completely secure with himself and his sexual orientation…

“Unless…”

Killua lifted his head, oblivious to the fact that he’d been staring at his feet. “Unless, what?” He asked carefully.

Gon shrugged, again, maybe out of awkwardness, maybe out of nervousness. “I don’t… kn… Well, unless. Unless, you… regretted it?”

Killua fell back against his desk, heart beginning to race, beating loudly in his chest. Wasn’t that supposed to be _his_ line? He hadn’t expected to talk about this--much less, for _Gon_ to bring it up. As a defense mechanism, he wanted to make a stupid joke and change the topic. To postpone this type of conversation. However, Kurapika’s words, in the back of his mind, stopped him from doing so. Honestly, who would it benefit to avoid something like this?

He locked onto those uncertain, doe eyes and offered half of a smile, “No, I didn’t--I mean, I _don’t_ regret it, Gon.” He tilted his head, and took a moment before asking; “But, maybe… you do?”

Gon responded without trouble; “No, I don’t regret it at all. Don’t worry.”

Once the words were said, something began to strain in Killua’s face, around his mouth. Tugging and struggling. And, he quickly understood what it was. The urge to smile. To grin--to beam. He wanted to so badly; soul filled with so much relief and bliss, it was making his head spin.

He refrained from doing these things, however, as the last thing he wanted to do was come off eager.

“Good,” Killua simpered, instead, gaze drifting back down to his feet. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Gon’s voice sounded like there was a smile behind it. “It is.”

“So, uh…”

“Yeah, Killua?”

A pause. A racing heart. “How was your date?”

Killua held his breath after uttering the inquiry--after addressing the elephant in the room. Half of him wanted to know, half of him didn’t. But, _all of him_ felt swayed by Gon’s courage. _All of him_ wanted to obtain the results Kurapika urged him to.

It took a while for Killua to get this information, however, for, Gon remained silent. It was unclear how the man had reacted to the question, as Killua hadn’t the bravery to look at him.

Just as the silence in the room was growing dense, Gon replied evenly, “I didn’t go.”

Killua’s head snapped upwards, so quickly that he felt his bangs bounce against his forehead. “What?”

Gon shook his head.

“Why not?” Killua cleared his throat, having sounded way, way too animated. “I mean…Did she cancel? Or...”

“I, uh, I changed my mind…” It was almost a whisper--a low murmur. “I didn’t want to go.”

 _Why?_ Echoed loudly in Killua’s mind, and, it almost slipped onto his tongue. Tactfully, he fought against it and kept the question tucked away as Gon’s tone indicated he didn’t want to get into detail about his decision. Killua wanted to respect that. He didn’t need to know. He just needed to accept it. It wasn't as if it was bad news.

“Well, that’s good, I-I mean, you know… not forcing yourself to do something you don’t want to.” Killua tried to sound casual, despite how badly he wanted to cheer. “If you change your mind, you change your mind. I mean, that’s how you’ve always been.”

Gon’s lips tilted into a smile, gazing at the other man. “Yeah. I never do anything I don’t want to.”

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to…” Killua parroted, quietly, feeling something warm collect in his chest. The relief of bringing light to those heavy topics had the tension lessening remarkably fast--from uneasy to frivolous and carefree. And, he didn't want it to plummet, again.  _He wanted to savor it._

So, he flashed a teasing smile, “I take that as a confession.”

Gon blinked, “Huh? What do you mean?”

“You don’t do anything you don’t want to. So, I take that as you indirectly confessing that you _wanted_ to knock me out on the trampoline.”

“You’re never gonna let that go.”

“You wanted to, didn’t you?”

Gon laughed--it was obvious to see he was feeling much more at ease. “Well, not at _first.”_

A playful grin, “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really. At first, I thought that you were just angry, so I wanted to let you get your frustration out,” Gon lifted a shoulder, stepping forward, “But, when you kneed me in the stomach and started pulling on my hair, I thought; ‘Alright, Killua, time for bed’.”

Killua laughed at that, hands coming out of his pockets to hold onto the desk. “You’re so evil, Gon. You really thought that?”

“Yeah--hey, wait. I’m not _evil!”_ Gon was taking another step forward, _“You’re_ the one who started the fight--and, you don’t even remember why. I think that just shows how evil you are. Just acting on your evil instincts.”

Killua couldn’t keep from grinning, even as Gon was noticeably nearing him. It made him a little antsy, watching those feet shuffle forward, one step at a time, but, he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t _want_ Gon closer.

“I’m not evil. Sadistic, maybe. But, not evil.” _Oh, God, why did I say that?_

Gon was surprised by the word choice, as well, but soon quelled it, tan lips slanting teasingly, “Sadistic? I take that as a confession, too, Killua.”

“Of what?”

“That you’re really just a pervert.”

Killua felt his face grow hot, and, prayed that the dim lighting would mask it. “You don’t have to be a pervert to be a sadist, Gon.”

“Yeah, I know. But, I still think you’re perverted.”

“Oh, yeah? And, why?

Gon shrugged, lips still curved, “I mean, you _did_ come onto me when we were on my couch.”

Dead. Killua felt as if he’d died, for a moment--as if he’d been struck by lightning. Did Gon _really_ just bring that up? _Freely?_ Were they really going to talk about this?

“Hey!” Killua sputtered, “I wasn’t coming onto you--that was all _you.”_ _Can we please use a different word, here…_ “Mr. Can-we-pretend-I’m-taking-you-out-instead.”

Gon snickered, “Okay, maybe it _was_ me. But,” he pointed, “You went along with it. You’re equally perverted.”

“Yeah, okay,” Killua scoffed. “I don’t think so, Freecss. _You’re_ the one who showed up at my door late at night like some kind of half-assed _milkman_. If that doesn’t sound like the beginning of a porno, I don’t know what does!”

“Porn!? Killua, you’re such a pervert!” Gon feigned offense, “I’m not even talking about sex and there you go, bringing it up.”

That word in Gon’s voice was agonizing.

“Bullshit you weren’t talking about it,” Killua smirked, a sultry laugh layering his words, “I know you, Gon--you’re the implying type.”

“Hey, I know you, too.”

“You think so?”

“Mhmm. I think so. ‘Think I know quite a lot, actually.”

Killua’s tongue darted out to lick the corner of his lips, “Like what?”

“Well, where should I start?” Gon murmured. He was a little closer, now.

“Nowhere--if it’s gonna be perverted.” Killua sounded both intrigued and breathless.

“It’s not _all_ perverted.”

“Yeah, right...”

“‘T’s true…”

There was a silent rumbling manifesting between them. Tension. A kind of gravity that wanted to pull Killua to Gon, and maybe vice versa. Its strength was so immense that Killua’s grip on the desk tightened, for fear he’d slip away.

It was the lighting; dim, warm, shrouding the majority of the room in shadows--alighting the glasslike glints in their eyes. It was the closed door, securing the confined space. It was the rumbling of Gon’s low voice and the sinful flicker in Killua’s.

It was everything.

Killua swallowed thickly, eyes set on Gon’s--never faltering. His pulse was racing, stomach growing hot, hands turning white from their death grip. The way the moods kept switching was giving him mental whiplash. And, he wondered if it was okay to feel this way. To feel so drawn to Gon after a week of trying to get over him.

But, Gon looked just as spellbound as Killua felt. And, it occurred to him that, it _had_ been a week. That meant, Gon had _a full week_ to realize what they’d done together, to come to terms with it, to accept it, to understand that he didn’t regret it--that he’d _wanted_ it. Gon had had an _entire week_ to decide whether or not he still wanted Killua in such an intimate way.

Maybe, Gon wasn’t as straight as Killua thought he was.

Maybe, he should find out.

“So, c’mon then,” Killua’s smirk lengthened, “What’d’you know about me? About me, _right now.”_

“Right now?”

“Mhm.”

“Well,” Gon’s voice was low and thick, his eyes scanned all over Killua’s porcelain face before settling on a particular spot. “...You keep licking your lips… So, I know you’re, either, nervous or… expecting something.”

He was right. Killua nodded, leaning back, further into the desk, head tilting to the right, “Expecting something, huh?”

“Yeah. You always lick your lips when you’re anticipating something.” Gon’s eyes were darker, hazier--from what Killua could see.

“Well, Gon,” Killua’s voice came out a breathy song, “What do you think I’m anticipating?”

Gon stepped closer, gazing down at the other man. “You want me to do something.”

Killua could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He felt that same numbing sensation of arousal tickling his skin, just as it had on Gon’s couch. But, something about this moment felt different. It wasn’t confusing, like before--his judgement wasn’t clouded with momentum, and, neither was Gon’s. In fact, Gon seemed more held together this time around. And, Killua realized that it was because, in this moment, they were sharing a mutual understanding; that all those feelings of uncertainty were behind them--leaving nothing but clarity to fall upon them.

The clarity that _it_ could happen. That _they_ could happen. And, that it was… _It was okay, if they did._

A pale hand lifted, heading straight for Gon’s zipper. Slowly, Killua pulled it down, uncovering a white, fitted tank stretched over a sculpted chest. As the grating sound greeted the air, Killua chuckled. “Why so vague? You know me, right? What do I want you to do?”

The sweater came undone.

Gon was the one to lick his lips, this time. He leaned forward, gripping the open portions of the desk, between Killua’s hips and hands.

“You want me to show you I still want you,” Gon’s voice was barely above a whisper, and it had Killua’s stomach coiling. Gon had never been dumb. But, he wasn't expecting him to be so  _bold._

“Are you going to?”

“‘Might…”

Killua swallowed, gazing into Gon’s eyes, so close, now. “You should…”

“Should I?”

Killua could feel Gon’s warmth, radiating from his body and wrapping around his own. Gon was so close, so close to him. A kiss away, he felt. Just one. Just…

He lifted from the desk without thinking. He held his breath. And, everything left him. All the worries, all the analysing. Everything was replaced with the fire catching between their lips.

Gon didn’t stall, even as Killua had kissed him so suddenly. His hands slid from the desk to Killua’s hips, snaking around them to hold him by his back, pulling him closer. And, at the same time, Killua’s came up and grabbed onto Gon’s open sweater, pulling him down.

The kiss was frenzied in every sense possible, as if they’d been holding back the entire time. Their tongues met without hesitance, pushing through slick, wet lips. Scraping against one another, dipping and slipping, lathering one another in their own flavor. Killua was spinning and spinning, falling deep into this pool of everything Gon  _was_ \--bright, warm, intimate-- _happy_. He let out a muffled mewl, overtaken by the burst of chemistry and horde of butterflies in his stomach. Gon tasted so good--oh, he tasted so good.

The mewl brought a groan from the raven, large hands travelling down to grab Killua’s ass firmly. He evoked a hum of surprise when he pulled upward, lifting Killua off the ground and sitting him on the desk.

Killua parted his legs without a second thought, allowing Gon to stand right between them, pale hands clutching strong shoulders. The kiss remained intact, Gon’s maneuvering flawless. He’d even managed to discard his sweater, tonguing Killua’s hot mouth, all the while.

After a while of thoughtless fervency, swollen mouths pulled away from each other, heavy breaths pouring out of them. Killua wiped the drool from his mouth, peering up at Gon with mischievous, dusty blue eyes.

“What?” Gon whispered through a dazed smirk, gripping Killua’s hips and sliding the man towards him. He bit his lip when their lower regions met, flush up against each other.

Killua chuckled, voice sounding like velvet. He pressed a palm behind him on the desk for stability while letting his other hand snap the strap of Gon’s shirt. “I kinda wanna make a milk joke.”

Gon rolled his eyes before leaning in and kissing the man. Pink lips parted, and Gon took the tongue that greeted him between his own lips, slowly pulling on it before retracting completely. “Don’t,” he snorted, “Please don’t.”

“I dunno~” Killua drawled, “I have _so many_ on my mind, right now.” He let out an inaudible breath when Gon leaned in and kissed his neck.

“You should only have _me_ on your mind, Killua.”

“How selfish.”

“I don’t care.”

Killua winced, teeth biting him. His hands came up and slid over Gon’s shoulders, down to his back. He curled his fingers, bunching up the tight fabric of Gon’s tank, and tugged on it. Pulling it over Gon’s bowing head and sliding it off of his arms. Hooking his index finger around its hem, he spun it around, lips slanted, half-mast eyes staring directly into Gon’s.

“You’re pretty hard, Gon,” he teased, compelling the raven to glance down at where their bodies touched. Both physically and visibly, it was clear Killua was telling the truth, what with the fabric of his shorts being so thin. “You wanna do it, again, don’t you?”

Gon looked at him, “Don’t you wanna, too?”

 _“Mmm,_ yeah, I do,” Killua licked his bottom lip with a quick swipe, “But, it can’t be a full on production like last time. Kurapika’s here.”

“I’m fine with that,” Gon replied quickly, “‘Just wanna feel you.”

Killua threw the shirt aside before leaning into Gon, lips latching onto his strong neck. A kiss. A long lick of the tongue. When Gon shivered, Killua whispered, “Good answer. There’s lube in the nightstand.”

Gon pulled away, lips curving, “Lube? You really _are_ a pervert.”

Killua pushed him away playfully, “Shut up. It feels g--just go get it.”

Gon had left and returned before Killua could even take his shorts off. He tossed the small container onto the desk and stole the hem from pale hands, “I got it,” he muttered before leaning in and capturing Killua’s lips in another kiss.\

Cool air greeted warm thighs in a flash, but, Killua was too wrapped up in their messy dance of tongues to notice. He succumbed to the heat against his lips whilst carefully scooting back. Bending his left leg, he rested the heel of his foot on the desk’s edge to open himself up. Partly aware that Gon was shifting about with a meticulous nature, mindful not to break the kiss.

He had a good idea of what Gon was doing, and the feeling of something warm brushing low against him confirmed it. Two lube-slickened fingers ran up and down, leaving trails of gleaming wetness. Slowly, slowly. All the way up. All the way down. He repeated the act several times over.

But, Killua hadn’t moaned until those fingertips began to rub circles around his rim, tracing it and coating it. The feeling wasn’t as intimate as Gon’s tongue had been, but, it felt more raw--it felt dirtier. Dirtier in a ‘sneaking into the bathroom to fuck your boyfriend’ kind of way.

Killua pulled away, head lolling back as Gon continued to play with him, and the man followed, mouth going straight for a pale throat, sucking on it upon contact. Gon rubbed patterns around his entrance, dipping the tip of his finger in every now and then, filling Killua with dripping hot anticipation. What he was doing was such a teasing act--so annoying, so unsatisfying, so electrifying, so breathtaking.

He was stuck between wanting Gon to fill him up and wanting him to continue. But, amidst those lusty thoughts, he couldn’t help but think about how stupid it all was--how unfair it was that Gon knew exactly how to work him, how to turn him on and make him moan. It was stupid and he loved it.

“Gonna…” Gon whispered, pulling away from a new stain on pretty, pale skin. The previous hickey had already healed, much to his dismay.

“Do it,” Killua moaned chokingly. He quickly hissed, teeth coming together, as Gon’s middle finger pushed into him, stretching his rim. He hadn’t been sore all week, but, the sensation felt akin to the poking of a bruise.

“Ohh,” Killua shuddered, ducking his head and watching the digit disappear within him. He didn’t mean to, but, the vision was so arousing he clenched around it. Gon bit his lip.

“Don’t do that…”

Killua chuckled breathlessly, watching Gon pull out slowly. “Why not? Like it too much?”

“Mhmmm. ‘Makes me not wanna prep you,” the raven murmured, voice rough and strangled with lust. He pushed back in, allowing the tight heat to swallow him, again. It was easier, this time, with lube. He slid in and out without difficulty, encouraging him to add another finger.

Killua stiffened at the new addition, yet, melted at the same time. He liked that sharp flicker of pain. Especially, how it dissolved into pleasure. “It doesn’t hurt, Gon, you can--” he swallowed, “‘Can go faster…”

“Okay,” came the curt reply, fingers sliding out. They rammed back in, causing Killua to let out a small squeak, mouth clamping shut instantly--they had to be quiet. He hummed instead, brows quivering, toes curling, all while Gon began to finger him at a quick, forceful pace.

With weary eyes, Killua looked from the erotic picture to Gon’s positioning. The man was standing to the right of his legs, vulnerable and bulging. Gon was out in the open, in a sense. And, Killua felt as if he should take advantage of the fact. Felt as if he should do something--should drive Gon a little crazy, too… Closed lips curved into a smile as he was blessed with a naughty epiphany.

Killua fumbled for the bottle of lube, tipping it upside down so the spout was in his hand. And, with a few good squeezes, he managed to thickly layer his palm with the oily substance. Tossing it aside, he reached for Gon’s shorts and yanked them down just enough to expose his erection.

Gon glanced down with surprise, movements pausing, fingers still snugly sheathed. Killua merely cooed; “Lemme show you why I use this...”

That pale hand glided over and wrapped around the head of Gon’s cock, lube dripping down his shaft like melted candle wax. The raven shivered at the touch, a sigh fleeing his lips, and Killua couldn’t help but smile.

Oh, what perfection--Gon’s face was definitely a sight to see, handsome and tan, masculine and boyish, complete with a pair of plump, parted lips, dreary bronze eyes and trembling brows. His expressions of pleasure were smoldering--sexy. And, it only doused the fire in Killua’s stomach with more fuel.

Killua leisurely slid his hand downward, slicking that tan skin as he pulled on it, all the way down to the base. He took less time when he brought his hand back up, and even less time bringing it back down. He hadn’t the patience to tease; he wanted Gon to pant.

Gon’s jaw dropped as Killua began to work him, pace comfortably fast, perfectly diligent. Movements creating this slick, sticky sound that excited him further, making the scene all the more surreal. He perked up when Killua clenched around his fingers.

“Well, don’t _stop_ , Freecss,” Killua taunted sexily, flashing a cheeky smile beneath half-lidded eyes. “If you don’t prep enough, you won’t be able to stick this in me.”

“Don’t talk like that, Killua,” Gon rasped desperately, pulling his fingers out and shoving them back in, drawing an unexpected and loud moan from the man. He proceeded further, hand moving at the same pace as Killua’s.

“Oh, yeah,” Killua slurred, relishing in that thudding deep within him. He squeezed Gon tightly, sucking in a sharp breath. Body momentarily freezing up when hit with a barrage of strikes to that special spot, showering him in white bliss. When he became accustomed to it--or rather, when he could finally _see_ , again, he resumed his movements.

His free hand lifted and gripped Gon’s shoulder to keep him steady whilst stroking the man with lustfilled vigor. He focused on the feel of Gon’s cock in his hand, thick and hard--it was a perfect length, smooth from head to base, girth perfectly proportionate. Its appearance made Killua _want_ to pump him for all he was worth. Made him bite his lip every time he felt it twitch.

He picked up the pace and watched Gon cringe, watched his abs flex. He slowed down and watched Gon bite his lip. He twisted around his shaft, squeezing the hardness as he spiraled up and down.

 _“God…”_ greeted Killua’s ears and it sounded beautiful--a panting, low moan. He loved every twitch in Gon’s face, every quiver of his lips and the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head, lids fluttering closed.

“Killua…” Gon moaned suddenly, and it had Killua’s stomach flipping. He felt as if he hadn’t heard Gon say his name like that, before.

“Yeah,” Killua panted, drowning in the pleasure of being prodded whilst watching his hand skate all over Gon’s length, grip firm and sliding freely. It was beginning to throb, he realized--a sign that they should stop and get on with it. “Hey--” a soft moan cut him off, “We should… Gon--”

“Yeah, okay, yeah,” Gon replied clumsily, pulling himself away from the brink of orgasm. His fingers withdrew themselves from Killua before he positioned himself right before the man. It was like clockwork, the way Killua promptly leaned back on his palms, spreading his legs and wrapping them around Gon’s waist.

Gon pulled his shorts down, just a bit further, before gripping his base, cock still hot from Killua’s hands. Pressing the tip against Killua’s rim, he glanced up and licked his bottom lip, eyes darting all over the flushed man, “You look pretty like this, you know…”

Killua rolled his eyes, trying to mask his embarrassment.

Thankfully, yet not so thankfully, the head pushing into him wiped his mind of the emotion, stretching the tight ring of muscle. Killua grit his teeth together, a sharp breath sifting through the cracks. He glanced up at Gon and winced, “Gon--kiss me.”

Gon complied without delay, diving forward and pressing his lips against Killua’s. He slipped his tongue between those lips and lured Killua’s out, swirling around it--sucking on it, all whilst pushing more of himself into the man.

Killua’s fingers curled against his desk as he felt more of himself get hollowed out, thankful that the kiss could distract him from the sharp pain. He just focused on Gon’s mouth until it subsided, and, before he knew it, Gon was thrusting into him at a leveled pace.

He moaned into the man, signalling the ‘okay’ to go faster.

Gon did just that, tearing away and panting. He pulled Killua’s ass to the edge of the desk, hands tight around his hips, whilst bucking his own. Killua’s legs tightened around Gon, head tipping back, shoulders shrugging as he let the pleasure take over. A scalding fire of bliss flaring out and burning him in rhythmical pulses.

He didn't realize how badly he missed Gon’s cock until it was pounding into him, causing the desk to shift back and forth, lamp teetering, threatening to fall over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck,” Killua panted, wanting so badly to moan. But, they had to be quiet--the last thing he wanted was for Kurapika to overhear and lecture him. So, he just let his jaw drop, let heavy breaths leak out. Gon understood this, as well, and kept his groaning quiet.

But, it was the fact that they _couldn’t_ be as loud as they wanted that tortured them. It fed the euphoria boiling in their cores--morphing it into a physical pain of sorts. Teasing them, luring them in and forcing them away. God, Killua wanted to scream, wanted to taste Gon’s name on his tongue. Wanted his throat to go raw from those three letters.

“God, Gon,” he sighed helplessly, “That’s so--good.”

“Killua…” Gon moaned just as quietly. Sweat was forming on his brow, Killua noticed, before blue eyes began to drift downward. He gazed over a hard chest, skimmed over two strong, tensed arms, stretching towards him--large hands clutching him--yanking him against every thrust of tan hips. He stared at Gon’s abs and how they flexed, coated in a light sheen of sweat. He didn’t get to see how Gon looked during sex, last time, and, at this moment--he hated himself for it.

Gon was mesmerizing; dark eyes clouded, sometimes closing, sometimes rolling. Raven hair falling over his forehead, some strands long enough to tickle his brows.

Killua only looked away when the lamp hit the ground, falling dark and leaving them cloaked in shadows and pale, blue moonlight from his window. He whimpered when Gon jabbed his prostate and quickly returned his attention to the raven, pale hand reaching out and grabbing Gon by the shoulder.

“Fuck, that felt good, Gon,” he cooed, “Again--C’mon, to the left a little. To the--oh! Yeah, yeah!”

Gon leaned forward, coercing Killua’s other arm to bend until it slipped, forearm coming to rest on the desk. “Gotta be quiet, Killua--'Don't want me to have to stop, right?”

“No, God, no. Fuck... ‘just feels so...good...” Killua panted, eyes clenching shut and fingers curling, nails etching four lines into Gon’s toned shoulder. For a moment, he couldn’t think--could only focus on the tactility of Gon’s cock digging deeper into him. His legs raised on their own, sliding up to hug Gon’s ribs, tugging the man closer. His body was famished; hungry for Gon, thirsty for more of the liquid gold that was pure ecstasy. Only Gon could provide it--and, every part of Killua knew it.

“‘Feels,” Gon managed, “Feels different this time--”

Eyes still shut, Killua tipped his head forward, tufts of white hair tickling Gon’s nose. “K-Kinda, yeah… kinda--” he bit his bottom lip, mind beginning to blur. “‘-- _Fuck,_ you’re deep!”

Gon responded with a seductively lilting voice; “‘Just how you like it, right?”

“--Gon, don’t--” Killua couldn’t handle Gon talking dirty--it should be illegal for someone so naturally considerate to be able to pull of such a sexy tone. “But--yeah, ‘t’s’ different. Like this’s the hundredth--time--”

“You-- think so?”

Did he? ‘The hundredth time’. The words came out before he realized he’d started talking, again. But, he didn’t feel as if he was lying. Tonight _did_ feel different. Something was making Killua feel as if he’d always been having sex with Gon. As if this was normal for them.

Their positioning, their closeness… Was that it? Or, maybe, it was the fact that this was their second time together; still in tune with one another from before. No, that possibility didn’t sit right with him, either. The real answer was _deeper_ , he felt. He just didn’t know it. And, maybe, he didn’t need to.

“S-Sorry--it’s hard to ta--” Killua threw his head back and Gon reacted quickly, biting on his chin. “No, don’t--” A slurred moan slipped out at the sharpness teeth, at a pang of pain that felt better than it should’ve, and, he realized he was overly sensitive because he was close to peaking. He cracked his eyes open and saw his cock pressing into his shirt, dampening it with pre-cum. He was pulsing, stomach contracting.

He dug his nails into Gon’s back, “‘Close, Gon,” he urged, trying to keep quieter than the smacking of skin that filled the room. “You can--you can come inside, okay?”

Gon nodded, swallowing, “‘Kay--if you want.”

“I want you to,” Killua assured briskly, feeling his orgasm draw nearer.

His arm, bent and propping him up, was trembling, wobbling back and forth. His ears were ringing faintly, body scorching. He let his eyes close and submerged himself in this colorless ocean of euphoria. He could feel _everything_ ; from the warm tingling of his skin to the throbbing buried deep inside him, pulling and tugging on his inner walls.

His head ducked forward, and, he bit his lip hard enough to break skin, body erupting as his orgasm took over, cum shooting out onto his shirt.

 _“Killua,”_ Gon shuddered, the sight of Killua coming drove him even closer to his own climax. He held onto pale hips and continued to thrust into the man, pace picking up and picking up until his fingers curled even tighter, a choked hum vibrating against his lips.

Gon’s forehead met with Killua’s, pressing against it, while his pace gradually declined until he was too exhausted to move--slowing to a stop.

It seemed as if time had also halted. For in this moment, they didn’t move--didn’t think--didn’t speak. They remained glued to one another, foreheads cold with sweat, flush against each other, noses barely touching, shallow breaths mingling in the air between them. Coming down from the high of sex, _together_.

Killua couldn’t describe it, but, this time around, he felt so _aware_. He wasn't dizzy like, before--wasn't drunk off of momentum. He was  _aware_ of all the emotions, the sensations and the acts that took place. And, having that made this moment all the more intimate to him.

“...Killua…” Gon whispered, breaking the silence.

“Yeah…?”

“Can we…” he paused. “Can we talk? Like, _actually_ talk about... about everything?”

Those words should have scared Killua. They should’ve woken up the anxiety that lay dormant in the back of his mind. But, they didn’t. Not in the least.

“Right… right now?”

“Tomorrow?”

Killua wasn’t afraid, anymore.

“Okay, Gon.”

He was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the feels in this chapter made this incredibly difficult to write, my god. Anyway, thank you for all of the kudos and comments and everything, it means sooo much to me, honestly :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Finale~

“Your hickey’s returned.”

Killua’s hand came up to slap the side of his neck as if he’d been bitten by a bug. He watched Kurapika with eyes of blue alarm as the blonde passed him, proceeding further into their kitchen.

He spit out a blunt lie; “It’s a birthmark.”

Kurapika nodded, absolutely unamused, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. The blatant disbelief on his face had Killua setting his half-eaten bowl of cereal down onto the counter he was leaning against. There was neither a rhyme nor reason for it, but, he always ate cereal by the stove. And, after a while, Kurapika took to drinking his coffee beside him.

“Okay. It’s back. So, what…” Killua muttered, arms bending behind him, pale hands coming to grip the edge of the countertop.

The sound of coffee gently rushing into a glass mug filled the silence between them. The moment of muteness was brief, however—Kurapika turning to lean back against a counter, himself. Hazel eyes lowered to his coffee and closed, a minute sigh leaving his lips.

“I just hope you acquired more of a result than a mere bruise,” he lifted the mug to his mouth, “That’s all.”

Killua shifted to rest the majority of his weight on the opposite foot, the corner of his lips pushing into his cheek. “Well, I _did,_ yanno. Just because Gon gave me a hickey doesn’t mean we didn’t talk.”

“Mm,” the blonde replied, swallowing down the coffee in his mouth. He set the mug down beside him and turned to peer at the other male, eyes baring a faint twinkle of amusement. “I haven’t a single doubt that you two talked.”

Two slender brows of white raised before lowering. The glimmer in Kurapika’s eyes was rather suspicious, as the blonde rarely ever pulled such a look. The fact that it was still _morning_ only furthered Killua’s unease. He grunted, “Oh. Really?”

“Mhm. In fact, it’d be rather asinine of me to think otherwise. I mean,” a pause, “You two were awfully _loud.”_

A soft string of laughter instantly left Kurapika as he watched Killua slump back against the counter and slide downward, sock-clad feet slipping against the tiled flooring beneath him. The embarrassed groaning pouring out of the young man only proved to make the scene all the more comical.

“Oh, my _God~_ ” Killua groaned boyishly, the only thing keeping him from collecting onto the floor being his dual-grip on the counter. “Why’re you laughing—shut up, shut up.”

Kurapika stifled the rest of his laughter, though, traces of a smile still lingered on his lips, watching the man struggle. “And, I assume you had your little talk _before_ Gon helped rearrange your furniture?”

Killua tensed up, eyes widening, collar growing hot—face blanching. “What’re you talking about?”

“…’To the left a little’…”

“Oh, God—“ Killua finally slipped, falling onto the floor with a thud. He was absolutely horrified by the fact that Kurapika had heard his sexual slurring. Dammit, he thought he’d been quiet! His hands swiped upwards for something to grab hold of. But, before he could fumble back onto his feet, Kurapika worsened the sting.

He waved his left hand with nonchalance whilst retrieving his mug with his right. “Paired with the thudding, I assumed Gon was simply transferring, either, your desk or dresser.”

Killua shot up, hands returning to the counter’s edge, gripping tightly as if fearful he’d fall once more. “Why’re you doing this to me—“ he sputtered, “Do you understand how traumatizing this is for me?”

“For _you?”_   Kurapika scoffed.

“Okay. That’s fair. But, hey,” Killua gestured to himself, his hand pressing against his chest, “You think I _want_ you to hear me when I’m like that? I don’t even wanna hear _myself._   Can you imagine how embarrassing this is?” 

“Would you relax?” Kurapika sighed, again, before taking another swig of coffee, “I’m just poking fun. I really don’t care.”

The other male held still for a moment, still worked up over the whole ordeal. But, eventually, his posture relaxed and he forced himself to quit thinking on it. Maybe, this would become something they just sweep under the rug and never speak of for the rest of their lives. He’d just learn from this and grow—and never, _ever_ have sex when Kurapika was home, _again._

Sex.

He and Gon had sex last night.

Why did it seem as if the realization _just now_ hit him? Clearly, he was already aware of the fact—seeing as he’d become so riled up over being caught. But, when the notion struck him, in this moment, he understood that he hadn’t given the occurrence much thought, at all. In retrospect, he’d barely batted a lash at having sex with Gon a second time. 

This morning, he’d even awoken feeling ‘normal’, albeit, a little tender. 

He, also, awoke alone, as Gon hadn’t spent the night; leaving a little while after they’d cleaned up. This was due to Killua’s half-assed reasoning of not wanting to end up rushing into their much-needed conversation solely because they were together. He wasn’t sure how this decision affected Gon, however, he believed it to be for the best. If he was going to speak to the man about ‘everything’, he’d rather be sober—free from any influence lingering lust had to offer.

And, the more he thought about it, he felt utter relief in the fact that sleeping with the raven, again, didn’t unnerve him or throw him through a loop. What he felt, now, was quite the contrary to both, actually— _he felt at peace—_ as if he’d obtained some kind of closure on the questions buzzing around in his subconscious.

Those lingering insecurities were gone, now. At rest and away. He felt lighter, invigorated—confident in his past decisions.

Porcelain gently clanging against the metal of the kitchen sink stole Killua away from these thoughts. He looked up and at the blonde.

“We’re gonna talk. Today.”

Kurapika’s brows lifted as he turned to face the man. His arms came to his front to fold loosely across his chest. “I thought you talked last night?”

Killua shrugged a shoulder, “I mean—yeah. We did. A little. We just talked about the sex and the date. ’T’s all.”

“Oh,” came a quiet, thoughtful reply.

“Yeah. He, uh— _we_ _both_ explained that we didn’t regret doing it. So, that’s good news.”

“Indeed,” Kurapika returned to his previous position against the counter, eyes holding Killua’s gaze, “And, the date?”

Killua felt his lips wanting to tug themselves into a smile, but, he strived to keep his relief subtle. “He didn’t go. Kinda weird, right… ‘Said he changed his mind—that he didn’t _want to.”_

He was, then, graced with a faint, faint smile. Yet another oddity to bless his morning.

“That’s certainly interesting. I feel as if… No. Never mind,” the blonde shook his head.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Wh—hey.” Killua leaned forward a fraction, narrowing his eyes,  “You can’t just do that. What were you gonna say?”

“No, I’d rather not,” Kurapika waved his hand.

“Are you kidding? That’s bullshit—you can’t just say something and cut yourself off with a ‘never mind’ halfway through your sentence.”

“It was at the beginning—technically. So, you shouldn’t be taking it too personally.” Kurapika quipped softly, “Frankly, I’d prefer to keep my thoughts on the matter to myself and leave it to Gon to shed light on his decision.”

Killua pulled away, chewing on that.

“That’s what you two are speaking about, today, isn’t it?”

“‘Dunno. Gon just said ‘everything’.” He lifted a hand and scratched his cheek, thinking on it a bit more. “He’s probably gonna explain the whole Lani situation. Probably wants to go in to depth with it, for once. He’s really weird about her.”

“How so?”

“‘Just doesn’t like to talk about her.” Killua tilted his head, peering at the ceiling, “Which is even weirder, since… when you like someone, don’t you usually just ramble about them?”

Kurapika’s eyes found the ceiling, as well, without any reason as to why, in particular—though, it was, most likely, because Killua had done so, first. And, when he lowered his gaze, he met the other man's. “Well, with you as my basis, I’d say so.”

“Okay, wise guy.” Killua glared. He didn’t talk about Gon _that_ much. Sure, he had been, lately. But, with how things had taken off in but a couple of weeks, what else was he to do?

Kurapika ignored the comment and glanced at the stove’s clock before responding. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll learn why, soon enough…” He glanced down at his feet before meeting those blue eyes, yet again. He remained silent for a moment, eyes pensive, as if searching for something within Killua’s.

“So… are you… would you say you’re ready for this conversation?”

Killua stiffened, minutely stunned by the question. He shrunk back, when the surprise faded, and lowered his head, shrugging. “Yeah, I mean… Yeah.”

He was. At least, he believed he was. Last night had been nothing short of an eye opener—that there was this great chance that Gon may be reciprocating his romantic feelings. That, maybe, Gon didn’t quite live up to the ‘arrow’ analogy he’d once associated him with.

And, even though he felt his way—believed these things, there was still that overhanging cloud of nervousness and fear. Of anxious thoughts working to change his mind—to grind last night’s confidence into nothingness. It was gradually growing denser by each passing moment, to where he could feel its weight bearing down on him in a touch-less way—much alike the sensation of feeling someone’s eyes on him.

“You don’t sound…”

“Well.” Killua swallowed before heaving a heavy, heavy sigh. He clicked his tongue and lifted his head, facing the blonde. “I mean—I _am._ I _am_ ready to tell Gon how I feel. After… But… You know. Admitting that I like him isn’t _just that._ It also means coming out.”

“Mm,” Kurapika nodded with understanding. “But, even knowing that there’s a great chance Gon may return your feelings, you’re still hesitant about it?”

Killua lifted his hand and sent it to the back of his head, ruffling tufts of white bed hair. He was confused, himself. It was if the facts were all laid out for him, perfectly sorted with the clearest writing, yet, those words kept switching around, dancing and changing. He felt confident, and, in the same instance, he was reluctant.

“Well. I dunno. No. Kind of?” He scratched his head, frustratedly, letting out a groan, “Jeez, I don’t know—I just. You’re the only one I’ve told, you know. But, I’m _ready_. I think. Shit!”

Kurapika wasn’t sure what to say. Or do. Should he think of a reply or simply let Killua talk himself to a common ground for his inner discrepancies? The man was never easy to read.

Killua’s hand came down and he held it out, fingers slightly curled, eyes rolling upwards to stare at anything but than the man before him. “I think it’s just _weird_ because I’ve been so _against_ coming out to people for so long. That makes sense.” Clearly, he was thinking whilst speaking, again.

Kurapika nodded once. “Mm. It does. It’s much like making yourself believe a lie, hm? Retelling it to yourself repeatedly until, soon enough, you view it as a truth.”

Killua’s hovering hand shifted and he snapped his fingers, pointing at the blonde. “Right! Yes! Kinda like that.”

“Oh, hmm.” A pause. “But, what _is_ your reasoning behind it? You never really went into detail before…”

At this, Killua’s hand fell. He slipped both into his pockets and snorted. “Don’t you have work? This conversation could take months.”

The blonde shrugged. “I don’t think you’re that deep.”

A roll of blue eyes. “You make it almost impossible to like you, Kurapika.”

His response was a soft breath of what could’ve been laughter, or something else. Either way, it didn’t emit an offended vibe. So, accepting that, Killua lowered his stare to his socks. If Kurapika was willing to listen to him, and Gon wanted to _talk_ about everything… He should indulge in this moment. Get his thoughts out in the open—sort them out. He figured doing this would only serve to help him.

So, why was he so resistant towards it? 

It took a while for Killua to utter anything. What with him having to peel away the several layers of ‘protection’ he’d constructed within his mind. One by one, he stripped them away and studied them, seeking out any kind of reasoning that may be lurking on their surfaces. Trying to piece together his findings. Understand them. Everything.

In doing this, several minutes passed between them, each carrying bouts of silence. During which, neither man looked at one another.

Eventually, Killua sighed. “I guess. I just found it _annoying._ Yanno?” That sounded right—it was vague, but, to sum it all up in a short-and-simple manner, ‘annoying’ was the best way to put it.

Kurapika’s head turned slightly, confusion evident on his facade. “Oh… mmm.”

Killua glanced over at his forgotten bowl of cereal, eyes scanning over the bits of cereal, growing soggier with each passing moment. He leaned further into the counter behind him, and began to hear himself speak. “I just… don’t—err, didn’t, understand why ‘coming out’ was such a big deal. Like… why does it matter? So, _everyone else_ can be assured? Why do they have to know?”

“…Killua.”

Said man snickered quietly, realizing he’d probably sounded extremely bitter. He worked to lighten his tone, shifting his stare to his friend. “Sorry—I’m not _seething_ over it. I just don’t get it, ’s all.”

“Right.”

Killua nodded, continuing with; “It’s just a hassle— _having_ to tell people I’m gay. I think that’s what younger me thought. But, it’s still relevant. I mean, how do you even fit that into conversation? You don’t. You have to plan it out and you have to tell people at _‘the right time’._ Well, how the hell are you supposed to differentiate the ‘right’ time from ‘the worst possible time’? I still think it’s bullshit.”

Kurapika didn’t know how to respond, so he remained silent. But, regardless of the lack of reply, Killua nodded to himself, anyway, as if approving of his own words, “I just always felt like it wasn’t necessary—that it was an extra burden. I don’t—err, _didn’t_ wanna deal with it.”

It was really confusing, trying to separate his past thoughts from his new ones. On some level, he still agreed with the justifications he’d built, but, after a second dose of _Gon,_ he was quickly finding it difficult to completely adhere to those beliefs. 

Kurapika picked up on the man’s confusion. He cleared his throat, and with a hint of uncertainty, tried to offer something comforting. “I see where you’re coming from. But, it never had to be a _burden,_ Killua…”

“It kind of is, though.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Kurapika replied gently. It was evident in his voice and the cautious pull of his brows, that he fully understood he was not in Killua’s place and could not intimately relate. But, he was trying.

Killua snorted, lips slanting. He swung his hands back to the counter’s edge, curling his fingers around it and squeezing. He chuckled, “You know—maybe, I thought that, too. That it wasn’t a big deal—so, why tell anyone?”

“…Mmm.”

His head lolled back, tip of his nose, now, pointed towards the ceiling. The surface bared neither a crack, nor, a speck of dirt, and, yet, azure eyes became focused as if they’d found such. The thought of coming out to Gon, after all these years, had his heartbeat gradually quickening. He didn’t know why it was doing that. It was as if he was _scared._

He knew with every fiber in his being that ‘coming out’ didn’t frighten him—he was more than confident in who he was and was always prepared to fight for that specific person. But, this only led him to believe that there was something _else_ there. Something else compelling him to keep quiet.

He tried to pinpoint it for a moment, or two, but focusing on something so seemingly non-existent had begun to give him a headache. Head lowering, his eyes met sandy brown. 

“Was that all?” Kurapika inquired curiously.

“Mnn,” Killua’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he did a little more digging in the back of his mind. When he found something, his posture perked up a fraction. “Well, I always thought it wasn’t fair…”

“What? Being gay?” The blonde nearly sounded aghast.

“No! No—“ Killua threw out quickly, “Having to have those conversations _because_ you’re gay—or, rather. Just… not straight.” He readjusted his footing, tone morphing into one holding more enthusiasm. “Because, you know, when you’re _straight,_ you don’t have to deal with that. No one ever has to sit their friends down, or their families down, and confess that they’re _straight._ And, that always pissed me off—like, why do _we_ have to do it? _I say—_ we don’t. Which is why I didn’t. Probably. Most likely.”

Kurapika’s response was delayed as he took all of that in. Finally, he raised a hand, palm up, “Just considering all you've said... Do you think… your refusal to come out was, maybe, prompted by your more rebellious side?”

The other male blinked.

Killua hadn’t thought of that. Was that it? Was his rebellious nature the root of all this? Had this always been his way of trying to get back at the world for forcing those who weren’t heterosexual to believe they had to explain themselves? To show everyone that people could do what they wanted—love who they wanted—without needing to declare it?

“M… Maybe,” came his deferred murmur. “Kinda stupid, though—if that’s the cause of all this. I could’ve just told the people I cared about and blew off the _rest_ of the world, all along.” He was suddenly feeling something freeing in his chest. As if he’d cleared a dark fog. How long had that been there?

“‘Past-you’ couldn’t help it. Don’t waste energy on it.”

“Mm.” Killua replied robotically, still ruminating on the theory. He let out a quiet sigh, lifting eyes that had found the floor, once again. “I could’ve told Gon—could’ve avoided these stupid headaches.”

“Yeah. Well. You can tell him, today.”

Killua donned a small smirk at Kurapika’s tone—a mixture of feigned indifference and genuine support. “I probably will. ‘Think it’ll go fine?”

Kurapika unfolded his arms to roll his sleeves up to his elbows. “Whether he can relate, or not, I believe so. He’d accept anything you tell him because he cherishes your friendship and accepts _you,_ wholeheartedly.” 

That pale smirk shifted into an absentminded smile. When Killua realized this, he discarded it—not wanting to get sentimental with the blonde. But, those words touched him nicely. A much needed reminder, of sorts. He pulled a sly tone; “You’re awfully _sweet,_ today, Kurapika.”

“Hm. Is that so?” Said man glanced upwards as if deep in thought, “I should probably fix that before you get used to it.”

“Trust me—I won’t. But, I… appreciate it,” Killua replied awkwardly. He looked away, eyes finding his bowl, now, full of mush. He thought he felt great earlier, but, presently, he felt fairly spirited. Foolish—as well. He wish he understood all of this, before. Maybe that hidden ‘something’ he felt earlier was really nothing more than what they’d discovered…

He sighed, “Well… I’ll tell him.”

“Right—good for you,” Kurapika nodded, glancing at the stove. Exhaling softly, he ran a hand through his blonde tresses and began stepping away, “Alright, well—“

“—Hey. Wait.” Killua turned his head and held a hand out. When Kurapika turned to give him a questioning stare, he slipped that hand into his pocket and fished around for his phone. He had been blessed with a brilliant idea and he wanted to run with it. “I… I wanna do something. But, you gotta stay.”

“And, why do I need to do that?” Kurapika inquired dryly, though, his body was already spinning around to face his friend. With withering patience, he watched as the man began swiping away at his phone. Irritation overtook his guise. “…So I can watch you beat your high score in that damned—“

A quiet droning silenced him.

Killua lifted the phone up, screen facing the ceiling, and stepped over to hold it between them. His gaze climbed up to a random spot in the kitchen while he waited.

Kurapika rose a brow out of bewilderment. “You’re calling someone?”

“Mm,” Killua grunted, raising the volume on his phone. “‘Wanna get a few under my belt before—“

After the fifth ring, a familiar and always-welcoming voice greeted them. Or, rather, greeted Killua.

_“Hey! Killua, what’s up?”_

Said male’s lips tilted; he always felt graced with this breezy, light sensation whenever that voice was around. “‘Ey, L’orio, what’re you doing?”

_“Uhh, wondering why you’re up before ten AM.”_

The two men quietly laughed, gazes drawn to the glowing screen as if Leorio were peering back at them. 

“Anyone ever tell you you aren’t funny, old man?” Killua replied in the same sly tone he usually concerned the doctor with.

_“Kurapika thinks I’m funny.”_

The blonde snorted, “I’ve _never_ admitted to that.”

_“Oh! Kurapika! You’re there, too? Hey!”_

“Hello.”

_“Hey, how’s work—no! Actually, did you get my e-mail about the wedding?”_

“Check your inbox.”

 _“Oh, right!”_ The man laughed, _“I’ll do that, right now. Is it bad news, though?”_ His tone lowered drastically; _“…If it is, just tell me—“_

Killua rolled his eyes, shaking his phone and hoping Leorio could, somehow, feel it. “Hey! _I_ was the one that called you, old man. Did you forget? Memory failing you, already?”

Warm laughter preceded the dull tone Leorio shot back at the man; _“You know. Maybe waking up early isn’t the best for a brat, like you. You’re incredibly grumpy.”_

A cheeky grin. “It’s a special occasion. I gotta tell you something.”

Kurapika’s eyes widened, tearing away from the phone to stare at the one holding it. Killua never looked up, however. He kept his own pair focused on the screen, smile lessening.

_“Oh. Well, what’s that? Everything okay?”_

A moment. A breath. “I’m gay.”

The pause that followed the blunt confession seemed endless, to Killua. He watched the timer’s seconds climb. In actuality, the number had only changed twice, but, in his mind, it seemed as if Leorio had hung up.

And, soon, that lively voice was back in his ear.

_“Well, hey, that’s cool! That’s great! I’m glad you wanted to tell me that—hey, yanno, my buddy’s gay, too. And, he loves it. I think it’s awesome.”_

Kurapika chuckled, eyes connecting with Killua’s, whose glimmered with excitement. Killua licked his lips, staring at the phone, again. “You do?”

_“Yeah, why not! Doesn’t matter—you’re still the same brat.”_

Blue eyes rolled, “Gee, thanks, geezer.”

_“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it!”_

“Alright,” Killua heaved a sigh, thumb hovering over a long, red icon. “That’s all I wanted to say. Plus, I can only handle so much enthusiasm before noon. ‘M gonna go.”

After the three said their goodbye’s, Killua hung up and looked to the blonde beside him, who wore a strange smile on his lips. It was faint… tender—barely there. He’d never seen such a look on the Kurta, before, and it made him redirect his focus quickly.

“How was that?” Kurapika asked while Killua’s thumbs went back to work, skating all over the screen of his phone.

“’S nice…” Killua murmured, feeling his heart drum in his chest. It felt kind of good just throwing it out there, like that. As if showing himself—past and present, once and for all, that it didn’t _have_ to be an ordeal. That… if it _was_ one, that person didn’t necessarily need to be further involved in his personal life. 

There was something about telling Leorio that was relieving, as well. Much akin to the sensation of loosening a knot in your back that you never knew existed. Like the first swig of cold water after a sweltering run. 

“What’re you doing, now?”

“Alluka.”

“Oh. Wait,” Kurapika narrowed his stare, “You never told your own sister?”

The man chuckled, giving a sheepish shrug. He was embarrassed by the fact; Alluka was his foremost supporter, and, yet, he’d never bothered telling her. There was a pang of guilt in his chest—having told Kurapika before her. But, in all honesty—and, in his defense—it never came up whenever he was with his sister. Kurapika had only learned such information when his feelings began escalating.

“Well—I’m…” Pale fingers tightened around the width of the phone as he cut himself off. “No. I’ll tell her later. I’ll tell her that and everything about Gon, after I meet up wth him.”

“You sure?” A blonde brow lifted.

“Mm—yeah.” Killua nodded, slipping his phone into his pocket. “She’s different from when you last saw her. She’s a lot more snappy,” he laughed, thinking on how badly he’d rubbed off on her over the years. “She won’t be mad it took me so long to tell her, but, when I tell her about Gon, she’ll probably lecture me about making a huge mess of myself over nothing. So. Better save that for later.”

“Hm, maybe, then,” Kurapika’s eyes ran all over Killua’s face before he spoke, again. “So, do you feel good about everything? Need to discuss anything else?”

The younger of the two blinked. “Huh? You’d actually delay your routine even _further_ just to talk about this?”

“Don’t put me on the spot like that.”

Killua snickered in return. They both knew Kurapika would feel inclined to respond with an affirmation if Killua had admitted to needing to get more off of his chest, when, really, he’d be dying to leave. Killua waved a hand in dismissal, “I’m fine.”

He was. And, it may have been evident, what with the way those hazel eyes settled on him for a moment before their owner nodded and whisked around on his heel.

 

\---

 

The car ride there proved to consist of less frantic analyzing than Killua had once predicted it would. In fact, he didn’t even remember thinking of anything, at all. He remembered blaring his music and singing along. That was all. 

Even, now, he wasn’t really thinking. Which was new. He was usually always pondering, musing, reflecting. 

But, in this moment, his mind was empty, leaving him to deal with simpler tasks—tasks that were soothing, nice—natural. Like, listening to the crunching of frozen dirt beneath the rubber of his sneakers. Taking in the sight of his breath, visible in the shapes of thin clouds. Reveling in the crisp air on his tongue as he sucked it in, allowing its cold touch to slither in and slither back out, hot. 

There was a spring in his step, as well, he noticed, striding down a spacious path into the park. It was something new and foreign—something that felt _good._

He felt aware and at peace and _present._ He wasn’t distracted by those nagging thoughts that’d plagued the last two weeks of his life—he was excited. Ready to experience with Gon what he’d undergone on the phone with Leorio.

Whether, or not, Gon felt the same, romantically, didn’t quite matter in the big scheme of things. This, he realized, the further he ventured down the path. And, that alone was freeing. Of course… Of course, he hoped the guy liked him back. That was only natural.

“Killua? H-Hey, Killua!”

Killua flinched, stopping in his tracks, lifting his eyes from the ground. Before he could even turn around to face the voice calling out to him, a hand grabbed his shoulder. It was warm—large.

He glanced over at the same moment its owner stepped in front of him, wearing a smile that was subtle, and, eyes that were large and doe-like, yet, baring a hint of nervousness.

“Gon!” Killua let out in surprise, realizing what was happening. Gon was in front of him, all of a sudden.

The raven laughed, retracting his hand and slipping it into his coat pocket. “You walked right past me.”

Killua blinked, glancing over his shoulder and finding a bench sitting just a bit behind him He was too busy not thinking to take in his surroundings. With a little chuckle, he turned back to the man. “Whoops. Sorry, I—“

“—Were you deep in thought, again?” Gon asked with a warm voice.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. I—“

A disappointed click of the tongue, “—You’re always doing that.”

Killua frowned, “Hey. I’m not _always_ doing that, you moron, did you not just hear—“

The other man shook his head, “—Such a dangerous habit—“

“—What’re you talking about!? I just _said—“_

Gon faked a heavy sigh, shrugging his shoulders upward, “—One day, Killua, one day, you’re gonna get hurt— ‘Gonna walk right into traffic ‘cause you’re—“

Pale hands reached forward and gave Gon’s chest a light push, causing the man to stumble backwards. Killua tried his hardest not to laugh, “—Shut up! I said, I wasn’t—“

Even whilst regaining his footing, Gon persisted, lips curved into a grin, eyes closed and brows arched as if he should be sighing, instead. “—And, what’re we gonna do? We’re gonna have to mourn over you and wonder why—“

“—Gon!” Killua let out with exasperation, darting forward and pushing him, yet again. 

“—Of _all the things_ you could _possibly_ be doing—“

Finally, Gon quit. His own laughter cut his sentence short, Killua pushing him, repeatedly, as if trying to get him further down the trail. “Okay! Okay!”

Once he was satisfied—a good three, or four, shoves later—Killua separated himself from the man and scoffed. The scoff broke midway, however, ending up a laugh, instead. 

“You’re so annoying,” Killua complained, “I’m not always deep in thought—I can be relaxed and calm, too, yanno.” 

Gon chuckled, hands still pocketed, eyes beaming into Killua’s. “Yeah, you can be.” A pause. “Like, when you’re sleeping, for instance—“

“—Freecss, I swear.”

“Alright, alright, I’m done,” Gon laughed, again, “I was just joking.”

Killua resumed walking down the path, Gon instinctively falling in step beside him. A laugh slipped out of his mouth, reflecting on Gon’s antics. “You’re so annoying.”

“You already said that,” Gon chuckled, watching a rock he’d kicked skim ahead of them.

“I said _a lot_ of things, just now, _that you, apparently, didn’t hear_ —so, I thought I’d repeat myself,” Killua quipped, smiling to himself. His pulse was slowly picking up pace, being in Gon’s presence, again. And, it felt good. It was nice, this time. 

“You act like _you aren’t,”_ Gon snorted.

A smug scoff, “‘Cause I’m not!”

“Well, what if _I_ just started calling _you_ annoying?” Gon lifted his gaze to point it at the man beside him, who stared back, cocking a brow. Tan lips stretched into a delighted smirk, “Repeatedly? That’d be pretty annoying of me, don’t you think?”

Killua huffed, curious eyes morphing into a glare. “I hate that you can flip shit like that, Gon. Stop it.” His response was a head tipping back and laughter. Soon, he joined in. 

Though, amidst this, Killua couldn’t help but think on how they were acting; comfortable and playful—he almost couldn’t believe they’d been in each other’s arms just several hours ago.

 

\- - -

 

Gon was talking about something strange he’d seen on the way over, when their laughter subsided. Killua was about to respond—about to ask if he’d taken a picture of the scene before they reached the more open portion of the park. Something in the distance, on the other side of a small, wooden bridge stole his attention.

“’T’s that?”

Gon glanced over. His eyes narrowed, trying to spot what Killua was looking at. Within the same moment, they widened, glimmering with excitement. “Oh! Hey!”

“Hey, what? What is it?” 

The raven looked at him, pointing ahead, “People are skating over there. I mean, I think they are.”

“Hmm?” Killua murmured, watching ‘things’ move around across the way. He couldn’t see as far as Gon could—then again, he was sure _no one_ had a vision like Gon’s. He was unnaturally gifted in almost every aspect. 

When they crossed the bridge, the moving objects became more visible. He could make out the shapes of bodies, could see long hair and scarves blowing in the wind as whoever they were attached to sped in a certain direction. All the commotion—the people, the distant hum of voices and music—was contained within a white, circular fence. His eyes darted over to the right, studying a large booth and a line formed before it.

“Oh.” Killua muttered, “I get it. Synthetic ice rink. I forgot.”

“What d’you mean, ‘forgot’?” Honey eyes blinked. “You knew it was here?”

“Mm, no. But, that’s usually what they do with that space during the winter.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and proceeded down the path. “And, during the summer, local bands play there, or whatever.”

Though, he was dismissing the attraction, Killua found it rather funny to find a rink set up where they’d decided to meet. But, the matter only reminded him of the conversation they needed to have. And at this, he grew reticent, expression turning contemplative as he wondered when and how he’d initiate things—or if Gon was planning on doing it, himself.

“Hey, I have an idea.”

One of Killua’s eyebrows twitched upward. He pulled away from his thoughts and gave the raven a questioning look. 

“Hm?” By the way Gon peered at him with those incessantly bright eyes and sported that delighted, closed-lip smile had him understanding the man’s intentions completely. His shoulders drooped. “No. Are you kidding? No. _No.”_  

The smile didn’t falter in the slightest. “Why not? ‘Scared you’ll fall?”

“No—“ Killua frowned, “We’re supposed to talk—remember? Not _ice skate._ Plus—that’s _weird._ We were talking about ice skating, like, a week ago. Before…” He cleared his throat, looking away and leaving his sentence unfinished. Gon was there—no need for a recap. 

Gon tapped his chin with an index finger, “Hm. Sounds like fate to me.”

“Sounds unbelievably cliche _to me.”_ Came the shorter’s grumble.

“Well, _I_ think it’s fate. A sign, even. We should go try it out.” And, before Killua had any time to protest, the raven was already passing him, intending on cutting through the field and making a beeline to the rink. He cocked his head to the side and called back, over his shoulder; “You shouldn’t be so negative, Killua. You’ll die early that way!”

Killua’s jaw dropped, pivoting on his heel to face the man of spontaneity. Eyes offended, and voice full of more frustration than what was truthful, Killua hollered back; “That’s fucked up, Freecss—who tells someone something like that!?”

Silence.

Then, whistling. 

Careless whistling. 

 _That_ was what he received as a reply. What Gon had said was fine—they shared dark jokes from time to time. But, the _whistling._ That _wasn’t_ fine.

When they were younger, Killua had made it absolutely clear that this particular act—especially when smugly performed—topped his list of pet peeves. And yet, there the guy was. _Doing it._

He knew it was just an attempt to lure him over. And, dammit, it was working. With irritation creeping up the back of his neck, hot and cold in the same instance, Killua stormed after Gon, grumbling a string of curses under his breath.  

Gon was far ahead of him, however—thanks to his exasperated stalling. And, he wasn’t in such a hurry to knock his friend out cold that he’d run. So, he merely persisted at his own pace, walking and kicking at innocent blades of grass in a sort of hushed, adult temper tantrum.

He didn’t _want_ to skate. He wanted to get this conversation over with so they could move on with their lives, whether that meant enduring the future together, or apart. It didn’t matter at this point, he simply wanted closure on what had taken place between them.

And, ice skating would only prolong the wait, wouldn’t it? It would only distract them. And, even if they did attempt to go over everything, skating would only take the tension—the _seriousness_ out of… it.

Killua blinked.

A chuckle escaped him, watching the raven turn and walk backwards, grinning at him with all of his stupidly perfect, white teeth. 

 

\- - -

 

“Alright, alright, alright,” was the mantra Killua used to ready himself. He clung to this word as if chanting it enough times would bless him on his future endeavors. A calming breath. “Alright, alright…”

Gon cocked a brow, glancing over at the muttering man beside him. “Killua, are you okay?”

Visibly preoccupied, Killua gave a subtle, yet stern nod, eyes glued to the pool of ice laid out before them. They stood at the entrance—an open gate connected to the solid fence of white. They’d been there for a little while, seeming glued to the rubber matting encircling the rink, skates pointed straight, blades barely tasting the ice. 

“I think we should just go for it,” Gon suggested after another moment of quiet murmuring.

“Just _go for it?”_ Killua scoffed, trying not to be distracted by passersby in his peripheral. “Do you even know how to skate, Gon? You seem pretty eager.”

“Mmm, no. I’ve never done this before,” the raven pointed at him, “But, it’ll be closed by the time you’re done chanting.” 

A roll of azure eyes and Gon laughed, “You know, usually, _you’re_ really eager to try new things, too.”

Killua thought on that. Gon was right—they were equals in regards to spontaneity. But, that feat was usually brightest when concerning something exciting and dangerous—not the potential humiliation of spending more time on ice than on skates.

“Fine,” Killua said on an eventual exhale, left hand gripping the fence. He stowed away his pride and, instead, focused on having fun. This could be fun. “Let’s go—screw it.”

Gon’s smile remained, though, it may have lengthened when he finally made it onto the ice. From the mat, Killua watched as Gon glided on his left foot, his right coming down when his instincts instructed it to. The execution appeared rather flawless, really, and, Killua felt as if he’d been cheated.

A crisp, grating sound, and Gon had swiveled around to face him. A thrilled smile plastered onto his tan face.

“’T’s not so bad, after all!”

“Yeah, for _you,_ maybe—you damn liar.”

“Would you just come on, already?” The smile fell, only to be replaced with a frustrated pout. “We’re not gonna talk about anything until you’re on the ice.”

Killua let out an exaggerated sigh at that. Though, he did appreciate that Gon was being extremely open about talking—that, in itself, made it seem as if it was going to be smooth sailing.

“Okay, okay,” he grumbled, and shuffled forward until the full length of his blades were pressed against the ice. And, with a gentle push of pale fingertips, he sent himself forward, skates pointed directly at Gon.

However, on his journey to the man, slowly, slowly, his right skate began to veer away from his  left. “Shit, shit, shit…” The left began to steer inwards and outwards. “No, no, no, no, no—“

He didn’t see what happened next. He just fell prey to it. All he understood was the sensation of _not standing,_ wind rustling his bangs, a lot of white and a painful thud against his ass.

The cherry on top was none other than boundless bouts of laughter.

“You didn’t even last _five seconds!”_ Gon eventually sobbed, wiping his eyes as his laughter began to simmer down. It was still there—still fairly prominent. Just not as deafening. 

Killua frowned—though, he was mainly thankful his ass wasn’t _sore_ , otherwise, the rough impact might've caused him to shed a tear. “Stop laughing—you—you—“ His words began crumbling into a growing laughter, mingling with the chortles already flitting around his ears. “Just help me up, dammit!”

Gon smiled teasingly, skating up to the befallen man, yet making no effort to lend the hand he so desperately needed. “I dunno, Killua.”

Killua gawked, perplexedly, “What’d’you mean you don’t know—“ he threw his hand up, “C’mon! My ass is gonna stick to the ice!”

Gon hummed, eyeing his friend with a playful flare in his eyes. Hands holding one another behind his back, he began skating around him—looking as if he’d been ice skating all his life. The guy was annoyingly capable.

“I dunno,” he repeated, “The way you practically _skipped_ the skating part and jumped straight to the falling-down part… I dunno.”

Killua’s eyes narrowed dangerously, head turning so that surly, blue glare could follow the raven as he took, yet another, lap around him. “Gon!”

Gon skid to a stop right before him, ice shavings scattering to his right. The looming man trembled as if trying to keep the remaining giggles within tucked away in the depths of his throat. “You might be a jinx, Killua. I don’t wanna touch you and have it transfer over to _meeeee—“_

That last word was elongated and emphasized with a surprised, raising of his voice, as Killua grabbed him by the belt and yanked downward. The hollow thud that followed had his ears ringing with victory, only to be enhanced by the vibrating of ice beneath them.

As Gon winced in pain, Killua wiped the palms of his hands all over the man’s arms and chest, as if ridding them of filth. “There. Now the jinx is all over you, too, jackass.”

“You idiot, Killua—You could’ve broken my tailbone!”

Killua grimaced, “Well, _mine_ could _already_ be broken and you were just standing there laughing.”

Gon lowered his legs, stretching them out in front of him. A light shiver surged throughout his body at the cool sensation before he settled and snorted, peering into flustered blue. “I couldn’t help it—it’s kinda funny seeing you suck at something, for once.”

Killua exhaled upward, blowing the longest piece of his bangs out of his eyes. It made sense—Gon wanting to relish in being better at something the very second they try it out. That role was typically reserved for Killua. 

Lips tilting into a slight smile, Killua sighed, “Okay, I suck at ice skating. You win. Can you help me up, now?” He shifted side to side, frowning, again—though, it was mainly for dramatic effect, “I seriously can’t feel my ass, anymore.”

Gon nodded, chuckling under his breath as he shuffled to get back on his skates. The way Gon managed this task looked far too easy—it made Killua feel as if he’d missed some kind of ‘be-naturally-gifted-at-ice-skating’ memo. He grunted when two warm hands clasped around his wrists and heaved upward.

“Oh, my God,” The moment he was standing, again, Killua’s expression brightened to this mixture of, both, bewildered and being on the verge of laughter. “—Gon!”

Gon blinked, awkwardly shrugging backwards at the anomaly, “Wh… what?”

“It’s frozen!” A shocked chuckle, “Hey, seriously—I can hardly feel it!”

“ _What~”_ Gon drawled with disbelief, “No way. You’re being dramatic.”

“No, it is—I mean, it feels like it is.”

“Well, you can still skate, right?” And, just then, a sudden suspicion had the raven’s lips curling upward at their ends. “Or,” he pushed off of his right foot and leaned toward the left, skating around the man rooted to the ice. “Are you just trying to buy time ‘cause you’re nervous?”

All traces of a smile on Killua’s face dissipated, a frown birthing in its place, “Well, aren’t _you_ playful, today— _I’m_ the one who wanted to walk and talk. _You_ wanted to bullshit around on some ice.” 

Gon made his way to Killua’s front, smile never letting up, “Yeah, so we could relax while we talked.”

Killua pursed his lips to the side, watching the other man begin to distance himself at a slow pace. He was glancing over his shoulder—inviting him to follow suit. And, begrudgingly, Killua complied. 

“I don’t see what’s so relaxing about having a paralyzed ass, Freecss—“ Killua griped, sailing over with a weak and tremulous posture. 

Gon slowed his pace enough to fall beside his struggling friend. “Well, you weren’t supposed to be _this_ _bad,_ Killua.”

The teasing intonations had Killua, both, inwardly grumbling and fluttering. He remained silent, however, trying to keep up with the man beside him.

The blunt carving sound of their blades against the ice filled Killua’s ears as he devoted all attention to his quivering skates, trying his best to keep them firm and straight. It was calming, and, he found that it helped him focus—drowning out the conversations around him, the noises of others who skated past them. In fact, he only ever recalled that they were in the presence of others when Gon would gently grip his forearm and steer him out of another’s way.  

“You kind of remind me of a baby deer,” Gon chuckled after a spell of silence, eyes glancing down at a bowed head of white hair. 

Killua simpered, resisting the butterflies awaking in his stomach. He imagined he did, as well—knees threatening to give out, awkwardly veering inwards and outwards as if he hadn't yet learned to stand. “You and animals, Gon…”

He expected a laugh, or a polite quip.

“So, hey.”

Killua’s breath hitched.

That tone was different from the one prior, and it vaguely felt like a brick wall had sprouted behind them—towering and denying them a path back to frivolous banter.

 _Gon was ready._ Ready to begin their discussion. And, of course, Killua was informed of this without a lead-up to the fact. It was typical of Gon to forgo the element of ‘easing’. In fact, Killua had grown habituated to this quirk over the years. But, in this instance, he found his heart beating a little faster.

“Mm…yeah? What’s up?” 

It was happening.

“I’m gonna start.”

“Okay,” Killua nodded, stare ascending to focus ahead. His skates were no longer going awry; his mind was already preoccupying itself, fixing upon Gon—funny how that worked.

There was a fleeting moment of silence before Gon cleared his throat.

“There’re a couple things that’ve been… bugging me, since we met up, again,” he spoke carefully, as if trying to conjure up the best way to phrase his thoughts. “Some things you said.” 

Perhaps, Killua’s anxiety was simply making its daily debut, for, he immediately took these words as something daunting. 

Gon didn’t continue—not immediately, anyway. Killua assumed he was awaiting a response, however, he uttered nothing.

“Uhm.” he was speaking again, “Well, alright. You remember, right? What you said at HXH?”

Killua’s brows knitted together in a pensive fashion. He licked his bottom lip, trying to recall anything he may have said that was worthy of leaving a lasting impression. Gon pulled him out of the way of a befallen child being picked up by their guardian.

Soon, the extra warmth on his arm faded away. “Uhm, no. What was it?”

It took a few seconds for him to receive an answer.

“You… You know. You said that thing about exchanging pictures with girls—remember?”

Killua’s stance faltered briefly. So, this is where Gon wanted to start. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the flipping low in his stomach—it felt as if it was filled with hot ice—cold and disorienting. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I remember.” He glanced over subtly, trying not to attract any attention to himself. He studied Gon’s profile, jaw clenching as he ruminated, eyes set ahead as if unsure to connect gazes. But, he didn’t look sad. Neither, did he look angry.

“…That bugged you?”

Gon looked over, Killua looked away.

“Well, yeah… It did. But, not as much as what you said after that,” Gon snorted when Killua faltered, nearly falling. He grabbed him by the arm, once again, and helped him stay afoot. “You okay?”

Killua sighed, “‘Thought I’d be better at this.”

“Hm, why?”

“‘Cause I skateboard, yanno?”

Gon laughed, hand releasing the man, only to return and keep him balanced. “That doesn’t make any sense, Killua.”

“Well—it does to me,” Killua chuckled, strides eventually smoothing out. “So, anyway.”

“Oh,” Gon nodded, gaze transferring from the man to the iced path. “Well. You said. You said that you _lied._ That you don’t talk to girls ‘that way’.” 

That hit like a train. Killua swallowed down the urge to scream. It was time— _already!?_ This was it? Two minutes into the conversation and it was already time for him to confess his feelings? To come out!? Figures. Gon _would_ want to jump right into things.

Killua cleared his throat, faking composure until he could truly claim it. “Oh, uh. Yeah. I don’t.” One, awkward chuckle, “I lied. Yeah.”

Gon simpered, seeming a little put out, “This is when you… you know, elaborate, Killua.”

“Mm.” The shorter let out a small grunt, straightening his back. “Right, well, I did lie. I did. I don’t talk to girls like that. The only girls I still talk to are, like… Bisky and Palm—and co-workers. And, I’d never trade pictures with _them,”_ he shuddered at the thought, though, Gon didn’t find humor in the act.

“I don’t care about that, though,” he exhaled, “I wanna know why you lied about it—you could’ve said, ‘Ew! No way!’, or something—I mean, if… if you _felt_ that it was gross. I don’t wanna—I don’t want to _insinuate_ anything, ‘cause…” Now, it was _Gon’s_ footwork to lose its even rhythm. “You know? I don’t—you might think trading pictures with girls is fine. So, you could’ve just said something else, altogether.”

Killua wanted to laugh at how Gon managed to trip over nearly every attempt at a clear sentence in one go. But, the man had pointed out something grave—something not to be ignored. A matter, of which, Killua couldn’t dodge with a distracting fib to defer his confession.

Before responding, and, in a feeble way to buy time, Killua vomited a large sigh—so heavy, it seemed as if he were ridding himself of the nerves flourishing within. He was ready for this conversation—had been since he’d doused his cereal with soy milk that morning. But, actually partaking in it— _being_ in this very moment—was nerve-wracking.  

For, it was one thing to say you’ll accept whatever outcome presents itself to you. But, going through with this type of mindset was another. And, from here, he could only assume the conversation would progress into something very personal, very quick. He knew it was all or nothing, at this point. 

No hiding. 

No lying.

“Honestly,” his voice had started out small, “I can’t say. I don’t know why I said that. It wasn’t as if I was trying to impress you, or anything. Neither of us had ever cared about that kind of stuff.” 

So much for not lying. He knew. He knew _exactly_ why he’d lied at HXH. He’d stupidly said all that nonsense simply because he’d assumed Gon was straight. And, he understood this reasoning didn’t make sense—in fact, the lack of logic behind it thoroughly _embarrassed_ him.

Gon was going to learn a few things about him today, but _that_ particular detail was not going to be one of them.

“Mnnh, yeah, ’s true…” Gon murmured, eyes watching his left and right skates alternate fluidly. 

“But, it was a _huge_ lie,” Killua’s head lifted, a smile curving his lips abashedly, “ _Because~”_ he drawled, building up all the courage to spit _it_ out. There was a hot, bubbling sensation manifesting in his chest, making him feel winded when his breathing was perfectly fine. It started behind his sternum, it flooded his chest, accelerated his heart beat, and crept upwards to his ears, turning them pink while dizzying his head.  

_Remember Leorio, remember Leorio, remember Leorio._

Killua’s smile had a suspicion of strain beneath it. But, he persisted.

“I’m… I don’t _like_ girls like _that…”_ A gentle pause separated each of those words. Voice and air careful, precise, tentative, yet firm. Baring. Exposing. 

Gon may have been spacing out—stunned by the statement—for he escaped a potential collision with a woman at the last possible moment. 

“Uh—sorry,” he muttered distractedly—in fact, he was so distracted, the woman being several feet behind them as he uttered this didn’t register at all. After licking the corner of his lips, gaze unfocused, he glanced down at Killua’s feet, skates of white leather surfing against an even whiter, glasslike surface. “Killua, you don’t?”

Killua refrained from veiling his vulnerableness with sarcasm—a defense he utilized often, and instead shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “No… No. I don’t. I’m…” he swallowed before chuckling nervously. “I’m uh. I’m pretty… into _guys.”_

The revelation’s effects swiftly took place, thereafter. The boiling nervousness Killua had felt, moments ago, sunk back into his chest, collecting and compacting itself into something small—spherical and contained. It was a fragile; depending on Gon’s response, it could disperse or it could swell.

Gon responded a few seconds later; “You’re?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “I’m gay, Gon.” 

That felt nice.

Finally _saying_ it to him, after this unnecessary rollercoaster ride of keeping it secret made Killua finalize his own opinion on coming out—on the term, itself. That… It was a just a word. A three-letter word. Not a big deal. Just another detail about him.

Hopefully—no, surely, Gon felt the same.

Killua looked over at him, lips curved into a content smile, and a second’s glance at the man had them pulled downward. Gon was pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes clenched shut, a frown on his face—he looked in pain.

The raven let out a disgruntled noise. Not quite a sigh, or a rasp, or a groan. Just a noise, as far as Killua knew. It was unsettling—the expression, the sound. All of it.

“G—“

“—Killua, you—”

“—Hey—“

“ _—Dammit—“_

Killua flinched, “ _What—“_

The two ran into each other, Gon seeing the curve of the fence ahead when he reopened his eyes, and Killua missing out on the detail, entirely. As Gon’s footing shifted, allowing him to obey the rink’s arc, Killua’s was rebelling, resulting in their skates colliding, Killua bouncing back and Gon throwing his hands out to catch flailing, sleeved arms.

“Killua—you _idiot!”_ Gon groaned, upset—almost sounding as if he were whining. 

Killua blinked, perplexity splayed all over his face, as he was pulled back up in a flustered, ungainly fashion.

“What!? For knocking into you!?”

“No!” Gon shook his head, groaning, again, pushing on his right foot to put a comfortable distance between them. With the short space separating them, they were both able to wobble back to gracefulness. “No!”

“Huuh~!?” Killua drawled confusedly, “Then, why am I an idiot!? For being gay!?”

Gon looked at him so quickly, his hair rustled. “No! _Of course not!_ Dumbass!”

“Okay, Freecss—“ Killua growled, trying to maintain even strides whilst also rolling his sleeves up as an invitation to a fight. “One—stop cussing. Two—tell me what the hell you’re talking about, or _so help me—”_

“—You’re an idiot—you did all of this. Don’t you get it!?” Gon looked annoyed, exasperated, helpless, exhausted, bewildered—his guise held many emotions. Mixed together, the expression was nameless, and it threw Killua off. All the way off.

“No! I _don’t_ get it— _moron!_ How am I supposed to know what you’re talking about when you’re speaking in fucking _tongues!?”_

Gon glared, pointing at him, cheeks beginning to be overcome with an unfamiliar shade of the faintest pink. “You and your lie—you made me do it. You couldn’t have just been honest from the get-go? Would it have been too hard for you to just be upfront and honest?”

Killua shook his head like a dog drying off. “ _What!?”_ He exclaimed, voice cracking under the utmost confusion saturating his voice. He was panting, now. Pointing back at Gon, “What’re you trying to say!? I didn’t _make_ you do _anything!_ You’re your own man, Freecss, I didn’t do shit!” 

Gon’s look was as determined and unfaltering as Killua’s was irritated and baffled. 

The raven's chest puffed out slightly, lips tightly closed, before he let out a sigh of defeat. As if accepting that Killua was right. “I know that—I know. But, it was because of you. Because, I didn’t know what else to do.”

Killua’s head tilted to the side, unintentionally giving a random passerby a befuddled look. “What did you _do?”_

“I _lied,_ Killua. I lied, too.”

Killua’s pulse was racing, now, blood cold and thick in his veins. “…About?”

No response.

“Gon. _About?”_

“Lani.”

A skid. A stop. 

Killua planted himself in the middle of the scarce traffic, so abruptly, he stumbled. Thankfully, those around were distanced enough that they had time to change course and avoid the two men.

Gon skated over to his friend who was breathing as if he’d been running rather than casually skating.

Trying to catch his breath, Killua peered up into an alarmed and cautious gaze of brown honey. 

“You… You lied!? What’d’you mean? How did you lie?” he swallowed, hand coming to his chest, feeling the drumming of his heart through everything in between.  

Gon scratched the side of his head, “I lied _about_ her. She’s…”

“She’s what?” Killua’s inquiry was stern. 

“Lani’s not—she’s not rea—Killua, I made her up—‘cause—Hey!” Gon flinched at Killua doubling over, hands coming to his knees, gripping them desperately.  He felt absolutely winded, as if Gon’s words were tactile, readied and aimed for his stomach—landing a deep blow.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna puke. I think.”

Lani was fake? She never existed? What was this feeling in his stomach, stretching to all parts of his body—of his mind? Was he happy or upset!?

“D-Don’t puke on the ice!” Gon hastily grabbed Killua’s bicep and, with great difficulty, dragged him over to the fence. “Puke over the fence if you—Killua—why do you have to puke? What’s wrong?”

Killua gripped the metal barrier, ignoring how its coldness nearly burned him. He whipped his head to the side, glaring at Gon while his shoulders hunched.

“What’s wrong!? You made her up! Do you have any idea what I went through because of you!?”

Gon’s confused look receded as one of protest pushed forward. He put a hand atop the fence, as well, facing Killua from a couple feet away. “‘Went through’? What’re you talking about? What about me!? _You_ lied, _too!_ What about what I went through!”

“Gon—what!?” Killua shrunk back, absolutely, completely, and purely disoriented. “What the hell did _you_ go through? _I’m the one_ who was heartbro—“ He shut up. Instantly. Bit down on his lip and everything. 

Shit. That was _not_ how he’d planned on confessing his feelings for Gon. Not by a long shot. This and what he’d intended on doing were worlds apart— _dimensions,_ even.

Gon's frustrated gaze was quickly overcome with wonder and shock. He blinked several times, swallowing visible by the shifting of his Adam’s apple. And, when Killua looked away, he noted the way Gon’s clutch on the fence trembled.

“Killua. You. You were,” Gon’s brows furrowed concernedly, “You were heartbroken?”

Oh, great, oh, great. Killua felt the urge to vomit, once again. He was too flustered for this—the mental attack about Lani still fresh on his psyche and thriving.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head, “N-No. You misheard me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, what did you say?”

“I, uh, I said… I was… ‘heart, bro’.”

Gon’s expression shifted, yet another time, head falling back briefly as he let out a laugh. Returning to face the other man, he rose a brow, “And, what does _that_ mean?”

“Dammit, Freecss—“ Killua rasped nervously, collar burning—palms sweating, warming the once-freezing metal beneath his skin. “It means I’m confused as shit, right now.”

A fairly audible sigh sounded beside him. And, mimicking Killua’s positioning, Gon held the fence with both hands, back to the rest of the rink.

“Okay, okay, let’s just calm down, yeah? Calm down and…”

“Why did you lie about Lani?”

Gon perked up at the question before drumming his fingertips, tongue swiping across the top row of his teeth. The silence preceding his answer was long enough to tear Killua apart. And, it nearly did.

“You know, Killua, there isn’t an easy way to… explain that.”

“…Then, do it the hard way,” Killua replied, heart racing, mind delirious from all the things Gon could answer with.

“The hard way…”

“Mm,” Killua nodded, “And, I’ll… do the same, afterwards.”

“Promise?”

“…Yeah. ‘Mean, that’s why we’re here, right…”

Gon accepted that. He lifted his chin, looking up at the sky and centering himself with a slow, even exhale. His eyes focused on nothing, peering into the dusty blue canvas above as if arranging the words within his mind, upon it.

“Well. I guess. Just saying it outright’s probably easiest.”

Killua nodded, not that Gon could see him do so.

A group of people skated past them before Gon snorted and flashed a timid smile at the sky. 

“I made her up because I didn’t know what else to say to get you to hang out with me.” 

Killua’s heart did a weird jolt, heartbeats sounding like the tolling of a grandfather clock, echoing within, vibrating against his ribs. 

“You lied and I figured you were straight. And, you said you were _booked_ but… I…” his smile became more embarrassed, voice a little softer. “I really wanted to see you again. And, thought that if I needed girl advice you’d come to my rescue without question. I dunno.”

The fragility in Gon’s voice coerced the butterflies in Killua’s stomach to rise and writhe. “You wanted to see me that bad? That you made someone up?”

They weren’t looking at each other. Almost acting as if they weren’t allowed to.

“Well,” Gon chuckled quietly, “You do weird things when your back’s against the wall.”

Killua bit the fat of his bottom lip, eyes lowering to fix on nothing in particular. He thought on those words and gripped onto the fence tightly, swallowing down a quickly forming lump halfway up his throat. He did this in order to respond, however, nothing came out. 

And, in the absence of Killua’s reply, Gon continued—simper nervous yet audacious, all the same.

“...I really like you, Killua, so, I just got flustered and… and lied on a whim.” He sighed, and the breath was broken by an apprehensive string of laughter, voice frail.

Killua licked his bottom lip, ducking his head—eyes beginning to burn. His stomach was spiraling, his heart skipping beats, his body growing hot. 

“You like me?” he whispered. And, surprisingly, Gon had heard.

“Yeah—I mean. Yeah.” He began to fidget with the metal beneath his fingertips, “A lot.”

Killua tried to push back the prickling heat in his eyes. “Well—so. So, you wanted me to help with your ‘date’ so you could?”

Gon straightened up instantly, shaking his head and finally turning to look at the man beside him. If Killua were looking back, he’d see the unadulterated alarm straining his tan face.

“No! No—No, I didn’t invite you over to try and change your mind, or anything. I’d never do that.”

“Hm, but…” Killua knew Gon never would, but, he wanted to press the issue a little further. Make Gon to confess a little more. “…You were flirting with me— _a lot.”_

“Oh,” Gon raised a hand and rubbed the nape of his neck, glancing down, “I know… Ha, I couldn’t help it. I really tried to keep from doing it, but when you started responding to it…” He dropped his hand and pulled his shirt down by its bottom hem—not that it needed to be adjusted. “I couldn’t stop. I felt like—“ he paused, laughing with unease, “Jeez, why am _I_ the only one spilling his guts, here?”

“Felt like what, Gon?”

Gon quieted. 

“I felt like you might have liked me back—in that way. That, maybe, it wasn’t just wishful thinking, all along—that everything actually _would_ feel _right.”_

Killua felt himself smile—Gon had been going through everything _he_ had been. And, though, that was perpetually upsetting, it made him want to laugh at how daft they were—at how horribly they'd handled everything. He cracked up, inwardly, mentally shaking his head at himself. The chastising sensation within filled him with enough bravery to confess to Gon, to have him partake in the hilarity, as well.

So, he raised from his slumped posture and cleared his throat. Though, as his jaw dropped to release the first word of his confession, Gon’s words were already in the air.

“Which reminds me!” The raven’s voice was slightly raised, “ _You_ said _something else_ that I think needs some explaining.” Killua twitched, glancing over without turning his head, eyes set on Gon’s hands. “When we were on my couch—you said that you thought about _us making out_.”  

“Dammit,” Killua sighed.

Gon snickered, happy to aim the spotlight elsewhere. “ _A lot.”_

“I know.”

“ _A lot,_ Killua.”

“Yeah, I did!” Killua groaned, finally turning his head to the left. He let out a silent gasp to see Gon peering back at him, head turned towards him. 

The ruined mood couldn’t repress the rush of emotions flooding within him. After learning his secrets and finally seeing those deep, glowing brown eyes, Killua felt his stomach sink, felt his heart swell and swoon. He immediately recalled Gon’s words and the sound of his voice as he uttered them—saying he liked him. He felt out of breath, all over again.

“I did, okay, and I wasn’t lying,” Killua huffed, trying to get the words out without his cheeks burning off. Why was looking at Gon during sex easier than looking at him, now? “I was in the moment, and—honestly, if that weren’t the case, I wouldn’t have admitted to it so easily.”

Gon lifted a brow, “Hm? Why not?” 

“Because, that’s almost the equivalent of saying I have feelings for you,” Killua murmured, watching Gon’s eyes shift around, studying his face. It was unnerving, having someone inspecting him from so close.

“…Do you?”

Those deep, lively bronze eyes returned to Killua’s blue and he held his breath. Their shared gaze was _alive—_ pools of brown and oceans of blue wafting and flickering _._ Their stare was held ever-so firmly, as if something was blessing the air between them, keeping their eyes locked on one another. He almost felt that were he to wave a hand through the space separating them, a warm current would greet him.

Killua had imagined, in the kitchen with Kurapika, that confessing his feelings for Gon entailed a fearless demeanor, declaring his love through careful wording—speaking firmly and confidently. He had settled on this approach, influenced heavily by the readiness he’d felt after sleeping with the raven.

But, when the time came to fess up, he merely nodded. Slowly, but surely. Distinctly.

And, the look on Gon’s face was priceless. His brows lifted high on his forehead, his lips stretching at their ends, almost in slow motion. His tan face brightened and gained the compliment of another color—a natural, genuinely jubilant, faint red.

All of these elements gave Killua the push he needed to finalize it. To give his feelings a voice, to stamp them into the universe. To intensify the transparent joy flaring within those gleaming, doe eyes. 

So, he smiled, “Yeah, Freecss. It’s kinda embarrassing, but.” He flapped his bent arm, elbow nudging the raven a few times, “I guess I’m pretty head over heels.”

Gon’s smile split, then—teeth baring, mouth opening, laughter dancing out. It held such a different tune, this time, however. _It was shy._ It was elated, vulnerable, blissful and timid. Killua wasn’t sure how to describe it well enough to do it justice, but he _did_ know that it instantly became his favorite sound.

And, when Gon’s soft song ebbed, his mouth relaxed into a warm smile, eyes set on Killua’s. “Me, too.”

Killua laughed without realizing, turning away slightly. It all just felt so good. He just wanted to thrive in this warmth, this gold-silken cloth draping itself over his shoulders, massaging his nerves into nothingness. He felt triumphant, ecstatic and, more prominently; _lucky._

“We’re so dumb,” Gon sighed, scooting a little closer to the man beside him, the creases in their sleeves’ fabric brushing against one another. “We both lied and put each other through Hell.” He shook his head, “Killua, you should’ve been honest.”

Killua sputtered a surprised laugh before looking over. “ _Me?_ You didn’t have to get so swept up by my lie.”

Gon ducked his head.

“How long were you planning on keeping that up, anyway, nerd?” Killua chuckled at the defeated stance beside him.

“Not long,” he mumbled, “I didn’t think that far—it was just an impulsive lie.” He shrugged, lifting his head. “I was really upset, though. Thinking you were straight, made me feel like everything was futile.” 

Gon’s guise was defenseless, and Killua studied it thoughtfully. He nibbled on his bottom lip before asking in a gentle tone; “Have you… had feelings for me for a while, Gon?”

The man turned his head to look Killua’s way. “You first, Killua.”

The corner of Killua’s lips twitched upward. Gon was tired of spilling everything, he could tell. To be fair, Killua had done much more prying than talking. So, he exhaled and let his head tip to the side, “…Yeah, I’ve felt this way for a long time—at least since Junior year.”

Black brows lifted with astonishment. “Really?”

“Mm. Honestly, probably longer than that,” he was getting nervous, again. “I didn’t really feel anything or think about it until the day you told me you were gonna go traveling with your dad after graduation… And… jeez, this is embarrassing to admit out loud, but, _I didn’t want you to,”_ he swallowed, looking away. It was already hard enough to say these words, and Gon’s entranced eyes weren’t helping. 

“And, it was weird, ‘cause, out of nowhere, I thought; ‘What if he doesn’t make it back, though? I should kiss him or something—so he knows I care about him’. The first time I thought that, I got freaked out. Seriously. Because I thought I was straight, you know.”

“…Right.”

“Right, and. I dunno, eventually,” he lifted a shoulder, “I just got used to having those thoughts. Wondering if we’d ever kiss, or something. Wondering if… you know, if you ever had a weird thought like that. But—oh.”

He chuckled, “I remember. Kurapika was leaving my house one day, right—“

“—‘Cause he was friends with your brother.”

“Yeah. I still can’t even begin to underst—anyway, I was walking home and passed him on the way. And, I don’t even know… I was _really_ confused at that point, and caved in and decided to tell someone. So, I told him. We went to his house and everything. And, he pretty much spelled it out for me. That… my love for you, as a friend, kind of morphed into something else.”

He laughed under his breath. He hadn’t really meant to give an entire backstory, but, a little history couldn’t hurt anything.

“You told Kurapika, but you couldn’t tell me…” Gon murmured through a frown.

“Well, Kurapika couldn’t tell me ‘sorry, I don’t like you like that’ or ‘I don’t wanna do that stuff with you’. You know?”

“Right… That makes sense.” Gon simpered, “But, you could’ve told me you were gay, back then. I would’ve understood and accepted that. You could’ve told me at HXH, too. Or, just not have lied about trading pictures with girls.”

Killua jabbed him with his elbow, “Hey, we already talked about that.”

A laugh, “I know, I know…” A comfortable silence swam by on a cold breeze. “So, am I the last to know, then? About your preferences?”

“No, just the third. Well, fourth—including me,” Killua joked lightly, but Gon looked taken aback.

“You haven’t told anyone, Killua?”

“Erm, no.” He cleared his throat, “I don’t really _have_ to, yanno. And, I talked about it with Kurapika. I realized I kept it a secret ‘cause I was just being rebellious. Not giving in to the world’s expectations to explain myself.”

Gon quirked a brow. “Sounds like a bluff, to me.”

The unprecedented reaction stilled Killua. He licked his lips, thinking on that, brows knitting together. “A bluff?”

“Mm. Like you just told yourself that to feel better.”

Killua looked at him. “What? How does that even correlate… I just said we figured it out…”

Gon shifted, “But, _you_ wouldn’t keep that from people you care about. I think. Knowing you. You’re really proud of who you are, I don’t think you’d have any trouble telling people and owning it unless… there was something you were afraid of.”

Killua’s posture stiffened again and he experienced this strange rush that blew right through him, slowing his heartbeat and flipping his stomach. And, it all reminded him of that weird presence he’d felt in the back of his mind, back in the kitchen. That _thing_ he couldn’t name. Was Gon onto something?

“Afraid of…” Killua repeated dazedly.

“Yeah. I mean, you know, I think. I think that you being rebellious was something to… lean on. To utilize. To protect yourself from whatever it was.” He offered the slightest of smiles, “I know you too well to accept that kind of reasoning.”

Killua remained silent. And, he contemplated. Everything faded to silence around him and within him, mind focusing solely on Gon’s words. He tried to weigh the pros and cons of sharing this detail everyone in his life. And, after doing this about a dozen times, a type of soothing sensation graced him, pushing his eyebrows up and mending the crease between them. 

“You’re right.” Killua didn’t wait for Gon to respond, “I… kinda was.” 

“Of what people would think?”

“No,” he chuckled, “I think, I was afraid of taking such a big step. I know, that probably sounds weird. But… I just thought telling everyone I was gay would mean committing to a new lifestyle—err, in a sense. You just get so used to being assumed straight, you know? No one bothers you about it. Changing that, all of sudden, seemed weird. I guess, I just didn’t want to deal with it.” A shrug, “But, today, I realized that I was freaking out over nothing. ‘Doesn’t have to be a big deal like that.”

“Oh, good,” Gon nodded.

“Yeah. It makes sense that I’d hype myself up and wanna stick it to the man.”

The raven laughed, voice smooth and light, conveying how genuinely happy he was that Killua had come to realize something so important, “You’re _always_ trying to stick it to the man, Killua.”

Killua merely smiled. Until, he blinked. “Hey, your turn.”

“Huh—Oh.” Gon feigned weariness, “Jeez, subject to subject, huh?”

“Parkour.”

The raven laughed, “Yeah— _mental_ parkour.”

“Yup. You got it— _Anyway~”_ Killua pulled a smirk with the likeness of a Cheshire cat. “Back to the topic at hand. When’d’you fall for _me,_ Freecss?”

Gon gave a playful grimace—at which Killua’s nose scrunched up at—before answering. Not quite laughing, though, his tone sounded rich with the same traits. “A little after you did. When I realized it, anyway.”

“Go on,” Killua pressed, tone teasing, the corner of his lips pushing into his cheek.

“You wanna know? I know exactly when it happened.”

“Of course, I wanna know.”

What Killua witnessed, next, stole the smirk from his lips and left him respectful and silent. For, in a fluid transition, the spirited air in Gon’s guise faded and a look of bethought wistfulness took its place.

“I realized I had feelings for you when I couldn’t take you to Prom.”

Killua’s body seemed to short circuit, then, every function stalling—ceasing, for a brief moment. When breathing again, he leaned a bit closer with the same tenderness one would possess when approaching a baby animal.

“Gon. Really?” 

A nod, Gon’s eyes drifting away from those intent, azure orbs. “I was going to ask you—I was gonna do it in _private,_ and everything. And, when you decided that we should take Bisky and Alluka, _instead_ , I felt a lot sadder than I believed I had the right to be.” 

Gon glanced over to see white brows furrow sternly. He cracked a smile, though, small. “I really wanted the last dance of my high school years to be with you. I wanted to take it _seriously._ And, when you had other plans, I kept thinking about how badly I wanted to pin those flowers to your jacket— to slow dance _with you._ ’T’s all that ran through my head that night.”

Killua let out an almost inaudible, sad snort of laughter. His heart responding to Gon’s confession with a confusing fluttering—he felt saddened, stupid and regretful. Yet, he felt a tinge of happiness; Gon had liked him for so long—Gon had undergone that same sinking feeling _he_ did during Prom. That ‘not enough’ feeling. The ‘this isn’t right’ mantra.

“I wanted to go with you, too, you know…” he murmured softly, lips slanted in a sheepish smile. “But, I didn’t want to hurt myself.”

“Mm, that makes sense.”

“Why… didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, because… I didn’t want to make things weird,” Gon admitted quietly, “We’re not… normal. ‘Never been typical, you know. Sometimes… I thought I could tell you. But, with us, it was hard for me to distinguish whether what we said, or did, was normal for close friends, or normal for _us,_ because we were so close… Or, because we actually _liked_ each other…”

“‘Was too grey, huh…” It wasn’t a question—it was an understanding. Killua understood, completely, how ambiguous their relationship was, and had always been. “…God, we’re so annoying.”

“I know, right?” Gon chuckled, before glancing at him, lips falling into a gentle line. His gaze wandered all over Killua’s porcelain face, from those thin brows to his pointed nose, the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. Lower.

Killua watched every movement of those glowing eyes, understood which feature they focused on. And, when they rested on a specific place, he absentmindedly took his bottom lip in his mouth, moistening it. After gradually releasing, letting it slide against the bottom of the top row of his teeth, he uttered; “Would you have kissed me at Prom, Gon?”

“I think I would’ve… I hope I would’ve.”

“…If you weren’t too scared to?” Killua whispered, heart thumping slowly, the scenery’s various colors blurring into one behind and all around Gon. All he could see— _comprehend—_ was Gon and his eyes and his mouth and his skin, the fact that there was blood pumping beneath it, a heart working, lungs pumping. That Gon was here. Existed. Loved him. 

“Yeah…” Gon replied, just as hushed, wearing the same look of wonder Killua knew he, himself, was donning. “But, I’m not… anymore.”

Killua felt his body lean a little closer. “Me, neither.”

Gon mimicked the subtle action, lessening the distance between them by a hair’s breadth. Killua felt that familiar pull, once again, the imaginary gravity that wanted nothing else but to draw them to one another. He welcomed it, thankful that it existed; that there was _so much_ between them, he _could_ feel this way. 

With a little quirk of his lips, he puckered them and kissed the air teasingly, inviting Gon to make the first move. The raven snorted, unable to keep a smile from surfacing, eyes warmly taking in everything Killua was. 

“You’re really annoying, Killua,” he murmured.

“’T’s one of my special—“

The last syllable remained in his throat, dismissed and forgotten as Gon’s lips pressed against his own. The lids of his eyes drew together, closing upon contact, and all Killua could feel was the warmth against his closed mouth—how it traveled to the depths of his heart, how it leaked into his stomach and empowered the butterflies dwelling within. 

Gon pulled away minutely before returning, his hand sweeping over to hold a paler one that tightly clutched the fence beneath it.

And, oh! Killua felt something else, this time. Something strange. Something large and weighty and _bigger than him._ Something bright and hot and zapping and relieving and stunning—something—it… felt. He felt as if he’d submerged himself in some kind of ghostly, intangible, yet sense-intensifying ocean, its waters burning every part of his body with this blindingly gold, warm sensation. He felt—open. Free. Vulnerable and blissful.

He pushed forward, tilting his head, hoping to express the years of longing he’d endured.

The kiss was simple and remained so; it didn’t escalate, it didn’t compel any parts of their bodies to move—didn’t coerce their hands to grope or grab. It was as innocent as their feelings had been when they’d first acknowledged them, years ago.

It was the very kiss the scared, teenage versions of themselves wished they could’ve shared. 

And, when they parted, Killua ducked his head, dizzied by the flurry of emotions barreling through his mind. His breath came out in the softest of pants, faint and visible. He only looked up when Gon squeezed his hand, palm still comfortingly hot against his cold skin.

He laid eyes on Gon’s face, and could’ve sworn it had altered, somehow—resting expression painted with pure serenity, features more handsome and mature.

“So, hey,” Gon smiled after a moment, or two--maybe, three.

Killua sighed, “Yanno, my body tenses up whenever you start a conversation that way.”

“So, hey.”

Killua shuddered, “See? Did you see?”

“No, you’re faking it.”

“Am not.”

“Fine,” Gon snorted, “Hey, so.”

“That’s _not_ any better.” Killua gave a lopsided smile, “But, it doesn’t have the same effect, so. What is it?” He had a good idea of what Gon was going to say next, and it had his stomach twisting with glee.

“So…” Gon’s hand shifted atop Killua’s, thumb tenderly drawing circles on the pale skin.  

“Yeah?”

“What do you think… then?” His gaze fell to where they touched, as if looking at the other male made him nervous. “About us? Being… a thing?”

“A thing?” Killua chuckled with composure, though, he was struggling to keep from fainting. “What kind of thing?”

Gon frowned to the side—an adult version of the frustrated pout he’d used to pull when they were younger. “Like, a _thing,_ Killua. You and me.”

“Oh, okay,” Killua nodded, voice playful, “What, like a… holding hands in public, kissing all the time and telling people we’re dating, kind of thing?”

Those bronze eyes lit up and raised to peer at him. “Yeah—yeah! Exactly that.” He cleared his throat almost immediately, the flagrant excitement in his voice embarrassing him. “Uhm, yeah. That’s what I’d like for us. If that’s what you want, I mean... What do you say?”

Killua felt as if he could rocket right up into space, leaving heart-shaped clouds of smoke in his wake. However, he kept himself grounded—kept that catlike smile on his face, loving how hesitant it made the raven.

“I dunno, Gon,” Killua said with a tone that perfectly mimicked Gon’s from earlier, “I dunno.”

Gon’s hand halted its movements. “What? R-Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Killua sighed through those smirking lips, “‘Sounds nice and all—sounds like a dream. But…” he teetered back a little, “Wouldn’t it be _irresponsible_ of me to just _agree_ in the spur of the moment?” 

“Killua.”

Said man snickered before faking a thoughtful sigh, “I mean, you haven’t even taken me on a date, or anything, Freecss. _I dunno~”_

And, when Gon understood—bewildered facade dwindling away, Killua threw the act aside and smiled amiably—fondly.

Gon simpered with just as much affection. “I can do that. I can take you out on dates.”

Killua leaned in, “Hopefully, no more hypothetical ones.”

Gon mirrored the action, though, drawing a bit nearer, kissing him one more time—briefly, sweetly. “Nope. Only real ones.”

Killua allowed it this time—the force that wanted to stretch his lips ear to ear in a shamelessly delighted grin. He pushed away from the fence and as he moved to skate around the raven, he tugged on the man’s sleeve and spoke with a voice that had Gon’s heart swooning.

“Then, we’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I need a moment.
> 
> Thank you so, so, so much for reading Boomie/Boomerang and leaving such nice comments and kudos! I hope you liked the finale, I can't believe I finished it lol ...I need another moment.


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